


Second Chances

by curiumKingyo



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: 10 years later, Alternate Universe - Future, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Future Fic, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Violence, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, Slurs, sex worker Max
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2018-12-21 16:41:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 91,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11948355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiumKingyo/pseuds/curiumKingyo
Summary: David holds one regret in his life, and that is not being able to help Max. After the end of Camp Campbel's activities, the boy was returned to his family and the situation left a bad taste in David's mouth - one he still feels even after ten years.When Gwen decides David needs some stress relief and unwittingly takes him to a strip club the former counselor can't believe his eyes, but Max's frown is impossible to forget or mistake. Thus starts David's and Max's second chance at a happy ending.





	1. End and Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> I am damaged by the end of season 2 and as much as I love all the "David adopts Max" AUs I felt like taking a darker turn on the situation.
> 
> Bear in mind that this is a Maxvid fic but it takes place ten years after the end of Camp Campbel, so Max is 20 years old when David starts to show any interest in him. This is sad and angsty, will present some heavy themes and a handful of awful characters are homophobic and use bad slurs so if you're looking for a light fic this is not your best choice. On the other hand, if you love suffering this might just be your cup of tea!

If David had known that was the last year of Camp Campbell he would have done some things differently. Surely he had enjoyed every day of that year with the same energy and joy he had all his life, but still, he had a few regrets. He wishes he had paid more attention before hiring Daniel, for example. He also wishes he had worked harder to give Preston a night at the Sleepy Peak theater or put more effort into building Nerri's cardboard tower.

All things considered, that had been a good year. Not so much that it was worthy of being the last but still very good.Truthfully, David has only one big regret about that year, and it boils down to he wishes he had been better to Max.

Max had been the most difficult camper ever, but David can't think of a person who has ever needed him more. Even now, ten years after the last night of Camp Campbell he still remembers, clear as day, the moment he decided that saving Max was more important than saving the camp. If he knew that he wouldn't be able to save Max for more than a mere few hours he would have made an extra effort to make him happier during the summer.  
  
==  
  
When David, Max, and Gwen returned to Camp Campbell after their escapade all the kids were gone.There was an official closing note taped to the door of the mess hall, probably left there by the Quartermaster before he too left. Max wasn't awake to see this, though, the day had been difficult and the ride on the car lulled him to sleep. As soon as they arrived David took him to the counselors' cabin and put him on his bed.

  
David didn't feel like sleeping that night but when he was about to leave Max the boy sleepily grabbed his wrist and didn't let go. The counselor laid down by Max's side, cradling the kid against his chest and watching the shadows move across the wall until the pale colors of dawn gifted him with some sleep.

  
When David finally woke up Max had rolled away from him on the bed so he silently moved away and into the mess hall. The sun was already completely above the horizon, and at that time the hall would be receiving the first campers for breakfast but that day only David and Gwen were there staring at the emptiness. There, alone with the echo of the rising birds, they cried for the first time.

  
"What is wrong with me," questioned Gwen with a broken smile. "I kinda hated those little bastards but now I just want to see them again!"

  
"It is okay, Gwen," David squeezed her in a hug. "We will figure this out, the kids will be fine and so will we."

"Will we?" The tears still swam in her eyes but she was quick to dry her face with the back of her hand.

  
"I believe we will," David replied with a genuine smile.

"And what about Max?" Gwen's voice was very small when she finally gathered the courage to make the question.

  
David hesitated for a moment. The memory of Max's empty enrollment papers, the image of his green eyes full of tears, the rushed but tight hug he had given him, all of this created a jumble of thoughts and emotions inside David.

  
"We don't even have his last name on his papers," continued Gwen. "How will we contact his family, or, even more importantly, _should_ we contact his family?" Her words were heavy with implications David didn't want to contemplate so early in the morning after so little sleep. As usual, he quickly tried to be optimistic.

  
"Max is an intelligent kid, he will help us figure this out."

  
"I will, and you shouldn't," Max's voice, still full of sleep, caught their attention as the boy made his way into the mess hall, Mr. Honey Nuts loosely held in a hug.

  
"Max?"

  
"You shouldn't call my family," Max clarified, "as I said before they don't care. You should call a social worker."

  
"Social worker?" David echoed numbly. "What happened to your family, Max?"

  
"They just don't give a shit, David," Max replied in his usual dry way. "My dad died in a car accident and my mother's new husband hates me, so you should call a social worker." Silence fell on the empty hall.

  
"Max, who enrolled you in Camp Campbell?" Gwen asked carefully after a long moment.

  
"I did it myself," Max's reply was muffled as he hid his face against Mr. Honey Nuts' plushy head. "I wanted an excuse to go away from home for a while, and honestly it sucks that even this blew."

  
David and Gwen exchanged worried looks but before any one of them could speak Max spoke again.

  
"David, I'm hungry. Can we have breakfast now?"

  
A smile formed on David's face.

  
"Oh we sure can, Max!"

  
The three of them joined in the kitchen to prepare a big breakfast of eggs and bacon – after all the pantry was full and with no more campers the food would spoil fast. While cooking, a strangely familiar atmosphere was created, a peacefulness that had David humming as he scrambled the eggs and neither Max nor Gwen complained about it. After some time they had a big pile of scrambled eggs at the center of the table, a dozen bacon strips on each one of their plates and tall glasses of cold grape juice set neatly in front of the window. The mood was light, especially considering how tense the previous night had been. David was rambling about random topics with Gwen and Max occasionally answering him, and despite the strange dynamics, all three were satisfied.

  
Until they heard a car screeching tires against the concrete of the empty parking lot.

  
David and Gwen turned around to the door just in time to see it being forcefully opened by a frowning man with a quite murderous expression on his face. A woman, with skin as dark as Max's and a mane of straight black hair, quickly entered the hall after him.

  
"Max!"

  
The boy turned around slowly, surprise written on his face as she approached. She knelt before him, a small baby bump noticeable on her belly.

  
"I am so glad to find you!"

  
"Mom? What are you doing here?" Max was talking to his mother but his eyes were fixed on the man who had opened the door. There was the usual defiance on his face but up close David could clearly see a glint of fear on his expression.

  
"Pack up, you little bastard," the man said from the door. "We are taking you back."

  
"Excuse me, sir," David said, standing up and placing a protective hand on Max's shoulder. "This is private property and I don't allow such behavior on this place. Apologize to Max."

  
The man looked David from head to toe and despite his brave façade, the counselor shivered with anxiety under his scrutiny.

  
"Lara, take your brat already and meet me in the car, if I stay here any longer I might catch this faggot's germs or something."

  
David was left speechless. The man turned on his heels and left, the door closing slowly and ominously behind him.

  
"Are you Max's mother?" Gwen asked the woman once the man was gone.

  
"I am and I am sorry he gave you so much work. We're here to take him back home so please excuse us."

  
"Madam, pardon my manners," David said, hand still firmly planted on Max's shoulder. "My name is David, and this is Gwen, we are counselors here at Camp Campbell and we would love to help Max and you even after the end of our activities."

  
Max's mother, Lara, looked at David with a subdued look on her face. David was no expert in makeup but it looked like she had a lot of foundation and powder caked on the side of her face, especially around her left eye, and she didn't seem able to meet his stare.

  
"Listen, are you sure you want to go back home with the angry guy there?" Gwen asked as politely as she could. "We have a car, we can take you and Max somewhere safe."

  
Lara looked lost. She opened her mouth to say something but, at the same moment, the man started to honk impatiently.

  
"I am sorry, Ron is just stressed that he had to drive all the way here to pick Max. We will be fine."

  
And with no further words, she snatched Max from David's grip and towed him away. The boy barely had time to reach for his teddy bear, his face growing pale as he got further and further away from the counselors. Shock froze David and Gwen for a few seconds but they managed to follow them out of the mess hall.

  
"Madam, at least give us a telephone number so we can check on Max sometime in the future."

  
Lara shoved Max into the backseat and closed the door firmly. The boy fell on the seat, Mr. Honey Nuts toppled to the floor, and David stared helplessly as Lara quickly scurried to the passenger door and entered the car.

  
"Fuck off faggot, if you try to check on me or them you'll show you what happens to fags who mess with real men."

  
The tires screeched loudly as the car quickly disappeared in the distance.

  
"David! What do we do?!" Gwen screamed at him, anxiety and fear clear on her face.

  
David ran into their cabin to fetch the keys to the car but when they finally made it to the main road there was no way of knowing in what direction Max had been taken. They sped through the highway and reached Sleepy Peaks in record time but Ron's car was nowhere to be seen. Tears were streaming down Gwen's cheeks when they stopped by the police station to register an occurrence.

  
The police officer was polite but inefficient at best. When he asked for Max's full name Gwen and David exchanged desperate looks and David's voice was small and broken when he admitted that they didn't have this information. Or any actual information about Max or his family other than his mother's first name and the fact that his father had died.

  
"I am sorry but with this little info it is impossible for me to help you," the officer said, slowly hitting the backspace key on his keyboard. "I'll give you the contact of the station if you remember anything worthy you can call us and we'll see what we can do to help. Have a good day."

  
And just like this the police officer turned around and walked into the other room, leaving David and Gwen alone and desperate. They wandered around Sleepy Peaks asking everyone about Ron's car but after an hour or so it became clear that they had not gone that way.

  
"Maybe we can track them down if we return to the camp and take the highway South instead of North," David said but there was absolutely no hope in his voice.

  
"Yeah, we can," Gwen agreed equally as hopeless.

  
They drove for hours until they ran out of gas and didn't find a single sign of Max. They parked the car on the side of the lane and walked to the nearest gas station with eyes peeled open, but there wasn't a single soul passing by. They returned to the camp when the moon was high in the sky and found the scrambled eggs still there, Max's plate still full of bacon and his glass filled with watery grape juice.

  
David's stomach growled loudly but he couldn't stand the idea of eating – not there and not at that moment at least. Gwen took his hand and gently guided him to the counselors' cabin where they huddled together in her bedroom, too tired to do anything but too scared and frustrated to actually sleep. Once more David spent the night with eyes wide open, the light from Gwen's alarm clock blinding in the darkness of the night.

  
In the following morning, there were deep dark circles under both David's and Gwen's eyes. They moved through the deserted camp in silence, gathering their things and packing up with slow and unsure movements. They ate some fruit in the kitchen and left everything else untouched, sooner or later the FBI would come to search Campbell's property after all.

  
Gwen drove until the next town and then David took her place until they arrived on Gwen's hometown. They exchanged phone numbers and swore to keep contact and to do everything in their power to find and rescue Max. Before leaving she hugged him tightly and he responded with an equally as tight embrace.

  
"We will figure this out, I promise," he said softly.

  
"We will," she echoed before kissing his cheek and pulling away. "Stay in touch, please."

  
"Sure, Gwen. Take care of yourself," he entered the car and waved briefly before taking the return to go back to his own hometown. He had no idea what to do except continue being, well, David. So he forced a smile on his face and drove while singing the Camp Campbell anthem despite the ever growing need to cry and scream nestled on his chest.


	2. One Decade and One Hour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos to zero-kun for reminding me that Max needed a stripper name!

It has been ten years since the end of Camp Campbell. David had never expected it to end, especially not in his turn, but it turns out it did, and although David's love for camping remained, no other camp was like Camp Campbell.   
  
In the first year after Campbell's arrest, David worked as a counselor in an Adventure Camp and was very excited to find Nikki there. She told him that she and Neil had a sister now, named Nina but when David asked if her mother had married Neil's father Nikki only laughed. The girl asked about Gwen and Max, and David didn't have the heart to tell her the truth so he said he just lost contact with everyone.   
  
The following year he found Preston and Dolph an an Art Camp. Dolph looked delighted to be there and David was happy that his father accepted his interests and started to encourage him to pursue them. Preston was every bit as stressed as David remembered him, but by the end of Summer, he had become friends with a bunch of theater kids and his anxiety lessened a lot.   
  
On the third year, he worked in the Summer camp of a private school and didn't find any of the former Campbell campers.   
  
That year he found Nerris in a gas station near San Diego, she and her parents were heading to the Comic Con. Her mother seemed surprised to see David ad is said she had suspected that David and Gwen were arrested with Cameron Campbell. David told them that Gwen and he had been interrogated a few times but they had no idea about Campbell's illegal activities. Nerris smiled at him: I always knew you are lawful good, David, she said proudly. He didn't quite understand but it sounded like a compliment so he took it as one.     
  
Four years after the end of Camp Campbell and David was deeply sad and frustrated with his life. He had started to work as a photographer since his knowledge of the region allowed him to find some magnificent landscapes and he began to sell pictures to tourist guides and magazines. People often complimented his esthetic notion and he was considering photographing people as well as landscapes and tourist attractions. Overall he enjoyed the work since it allowed him to travel a lot and stay in touch with nature, but it just didn't fulfill him as much as working at Camp Campbell did.   
  
The fourth year was the last time he looked for work on Summer camps. The truth is he never really loved and cared for the other camps - not nearly as much as he did Camp Campbell. Year after year he dedicated his Summer to kids who didn't click with him and worked with people with completely different intentions and interests and these factors slowly but surely drove him away from camping at all.   
  
His biggest frustration, however, is that in those four years he didn't find a single sign or clue on Max. In the first week after Max's return to his family, David and Gwen went to a police portrait artist and had his portrait done. It pained them to admit that they didn't even have a photo of the boy but together they managed a very good description that resulted in an accurate portrait that David took with him to every camp he visited or worked on for four years.   
  
Four years of blank stares and odd head tilts whenever he brought Max up were enough and he just gave up on camp counseling. He did not quit on his search for Max though, and even after ten years he still frequents missing children forums on the internet and occasionally posts the old portrait online in hopes of someone having any kind of information.   
  
The original portrait sits on David's desk, right beside his computer and he constantly looks at it. If he is waiting for a video to load his eyes drift to the paper taped to the corkboard. If he is waiting for Photoshop to finish loading or saving his photos he finds himself staring at the graphite image of Max's round eyes.If he sees something funny online he can't help but direct his smile to the portrait.   
  
Ten years is a long time, Gwen is always telling him. She had moved on with her life and she is still a very good friend, but she just doesn't share this burden with David anymore. He doesn't blame her, of course, she helped as long as she could and it is her right to keep moving forward. When she sees something that might be relevant she contacts him, and she calls him every week just to chat, but she has found another way to deal with this. Two years after the end of Camp Campbell she found a job as a therapist in a clinic specialized in treating kids victims of abuse and abandon.   
  
I couldn't save Max, but I can save other children like him, she is always telling him. When she is sober she speaks with determination and pride in her eyes, but after a handful of beers, she says so with tear stained cheeks and a quivering lip.   
  
It has been ten years since the end of Camp Campbell, and today is the first day of camping season. All across the country thousands of excited kids and stressed out parents are heading to hundreds of camps. David isn't working at camps anymore, hasn't for six long years but he can't help the nostalgia of the date or the wishful thinking about dozens upon dozens of what ifs.   
  
It is a little past noon when he receives a message from Gwen inviting him to go out with her later that evening. David smiles a little at his phone, he knows Gwen must have noticed the date and is trying to cheer him up, as she had done in the previous years. He doesn't feel like leaving home but he also can't ignore her efforts so he accepts and he sends him the details for their meeting.   
  
He tries to focus on work but that is always a particularly difficult day, his gaze constantly shifting over to the wrinkled paper of Max's portrait. After a long time of idly staring at the project he was supposed to work on he finally gives up and moves on to the bathroom to shower and shave and get ready to meet Gwen. It is still early but the activity, mundane as it is, helps take his mind off of camping season and Max.   
  
The place Gwen had chosen is new, so he doesn't know what the dress code is. After some consideration, he opts for light colored jeans and a dark green button up, not too formal, but nice and fitting. He brushes his teeth thoroughly and styles his hair with a bit of gel. David smiles at the mirror. He is thirty-four but his calm routine and good habits acquired as camp counselor kept him in very good shape, people rarely give him thirty years let alone thirty-four.   
  
He is ready almost one hour before the time he needs to leave home in order to meet Gwen, so he sits down in the living room and starts to scroll through Instagram without paying it much attention. He doesn't follow many people since he doesn't have many friends other than Gwen. The few professional and artistic pages he follows are enough to entertain him for the necessary time. He takes an uber to the address Gwen sent in the message and arrives at the bar just after her.   
  
"Hmm, Gwen, what type of place is this, anyway?" - he asks with a raised eyebrow after they hug for a moment. Gwen shrugs.   
  
"I don't know, I've never been here. A friend from work suggested and I thought it would be nice to try something new with you."   
  
David smiles brightly. "Oh, this is very thoughtful," he says softly. "It will be fun! Let's go."   
  
The place is cast in low lights and the walls are lined with small couches and armchairs. There is a long counter lit with neon lights where two men are working preparing drinks, tall stools are fixed along the counter and some of them are taken by costumers. Around the salon, there are plenty of tables with two or three chairs, but the most noteworthy part of the place is the stage and the catwalk.   
  
David looks around, eyes as wide as saucers.   
  
"Gwen?" He calls timidly, "Are you sure this is the place?"   
  
She checks the name on a menu she finds on the counter. She nods slowly.   
  
"Yes, that is it." She doesn't seem nearly as embarrassed by this as David. She looks around and, upon finding two empty stools near the wall, heads toward a seat. David follows suit, barely able to peel his eyes off the floor.   
  
"Maybe we should go somewhere else?" David suggests as he sits by her side.   
  
"Oh, please, David! What happened to your sense of adventure?" Gwen asks with a smile and laughs when he looks offended by her question.   
  
"It is still here, okay? Just a little... subdued."   
  
She places a hand on his shoulder and squeezes lightly. "Lighten up, David. The place seems nice, let's have some drinks and talk and have fun, okay? There is no need to do anything else," she says as she looks meaningfully at the stage.   
  
David nods slowly, still finding it difficult to look around the place. He is not a prude, and definitely not a virgin, but he had never been to a strip club and he fears this might stain his reputation somehow. But he must agree with Gwen, the place is nice, the music is not to his taste but the volume is low so they can talk normally and the items on the menu seem good.   
  
Gwen orders a beer for herself and a colorful fruity drink for David.   
  
"I know you don't like beer," she says as the waiter slides the two drinks in their direction, “but these fruity shit are good and I know you like strawberries so try it!”   
  
David eyes the red and pink drink with suspicion. He is not too keen on alcohol in general, but he does love strawberry so he gives it a tentative sip. Despite the Strong smell of vodka, the cocktail is very sweet, he notices condensed milk and coconut there together with the strawberry.   
  
They drink in companionable silence for a while but slowly they strike a conversation. David comments about the places he had visited for work and Gwen tells Stories about her colleagues at the clinic and friends from university. The conversation flows and David quickly dries his first drink and asks for a second. His cheeks are tinted pink after the first glass and the embarrassment is gone. He looks around in curiosity and at some point, he asks Gwen if she could ask the waiter about the performances.   
  
Gwen laughs but asks anyway and the waiter informs that the shows started a little later at night but if they wanted they could hire some of the strippers for a private show. They quickly deny the offer and say they can wait for the public performance.   
  
They are happily chatting when two things happen almost simultaneously.   
  
On the stage, the lights turn on with a loud click and the music gets louder.   
  
On Gwen’s pocket, her phone begins to ring. She examines the screen and excuses herself to take the call. David nods and turns his attention to the stage where a man with an almost comical top hat is introducing the first performance.   
  
David doesn’t quite pick the name of the people dancing because Gwen shows up at that exact same time.   
  
“I am sorry, David,” she says, picking her Keys and wallet and putting them in her purse. “A problem showed up t the clinic and I must go there.”   
  
“I can go with you if you’d like,” David offers and starts to stand up. Gwen shakes her head.   
  
“It is not necessary, it is not serious but I need to take care of it quickly. You stay here and finish your fruity drink and enjoy that nice woman and those fine men on the stage. Tell me how was the performance tomorrow, okay?”   
  
She gently pushes him back down and he sits with a discontent grumble. She leans in and kisses his cheek before leaving the bar.   
  
David stares at the end of his drink and gulps it down in one go just out of spite. He considers ordering a third drink but decides against it, asking for a water instead. He turns around on his stool as he sips the water absentmindedly.   
  
There is a girl at the center of the stage, four men behind her in a semicircular formation. She is singing and dancing and, of course, stripping, and the clients whistle and clap at her. The men dancing at the back of the stage are not stripping, but just because they don’t have a lot to strip to start with. They are wearing short shorts and suspenders and copious amounts of glitter on their skin and hair.   
  
David doesn’t look at anyone in particular, but the image as a whole is quite nice. The girl is very pretty and her dance is full of complex movements of legs and her hair whips in all directions as she turns and kicks and falls. The male dancers have a less dramatic routine, but they are all in sync and there is a very sexy vibe to their movements. Before he notices it David is tapping his foot to the rhythm of the music.   
  
When the show ends David claps with enthusiasm. He had enjoyed the show but this isn’t his favorite kind of activity and without Gwen here he doesn’t feel like staying much more. The woman is speaking now, thanking the audience and making some disclaimers about the bar and the workers when David heads to the bathroom to wash his hands and face and prepare to leave the bar.   
  
The restroom is right beside one of the catwalks and when he approaches he can easily see the male dancers who are still standing there behind the woman. There is a line to the restroom, and as David Waits to get in the woman starts to present the other dancers. They have obnoxious stage names but David finds them almost endearing, and he is smiling when the last dancer takes the center of the stage to receive some applause.   
  
“And last but not least,” the woman announces, “the Caramel Thunder!”   
  
The dancer, Caramel Thunder doesn’t seem too happy to be at the center of attention. His body language speaks of a discomfort that David hadn’t noticed while the man was dancing. David watches as he sighs and straight out flips off the audience. The former camp counselor is appalled by this behavior but the crowd seems to like as they cheer on harder. Caramel Thunder groans audibly and turns on his heels to return to his place at the back of the stage.   
  
And that’s when David’s eyes finally land on the man’s face. And that’s when David’s heart seems to stop and burst and shrink all at once.   
  
Tem years is a long time, but there is no mistaking those bright green eyes or the oddly shaped frowny eyebrows or the little pointy nose. There is no forgetting the tight line of those lips or that mass of black curly hair.   
  
David leaves the line to the restroom as fast as he can and basically throws himself at the counter, waving at the waiter as if his life depended on it.   
  
“May I help you, sir?”   
  
“This man, the last one,” David says breathlessly.   
  
The waiter looks over David’s shoulder in time to see the dancers leaving the stage.   
  
“You mean Caramel Thunder?”   
  
“Yes, yes, Caramel this thing,” David says frantically. “I need to talk to him.”   
  
The waiter gives him a knowing smile, obviously misunderstanding David’s frantic behavior. “Well sir, he is available if you’d like an hour with him.”   
  
“Yes,” David barely gives the man time to finish speaking and in any other situation he would berate himself for his manners but he is too overwhelmed to actually care.   
  
“Well sir, you can head down that corridor and get into room 13,” the waiter says as he hands David a key with the number 13 printed on it. “Caramel Thunder will see you in a moment.”   
  
David nods and thanks the man quickly and once again he crosses the salon as fast as his long legs allow him to. The takes the corridor and is happy to see that room 13 is right at the beginning. He enters the room with the thunderous sound of his heart on his ears.   
  
The room is clean but bare. There is a bed, an armchair, a coffee table with a box of amenities on it and a floor-to-ceiling mirror on the opposite wall. There aren’t signs of a person living in this room so David assumes this is not a dormitory. It takes a moment for him to realize the purpose of the room and when he does he feels the back of his neck prick with heat and sweat – the last thing he wants is to cause the wrong impression.   
  
He is silently fretting over these implications when the door opened and closed with a silent click.   
  
“Welcome, sir,” the voice hits David through ten years of frustration and heartache. It is not as shrilly as it once was but it is as insolent as ever.   
  
David’s eyes fill with tears and his shaking hands curl into tight fists as he slowly turns around. The room is well lit and small so there is no hiding and no mistaking when their eyes finally meet. David doesn’t blink, afraid that if he does the person in front of him will disappear once again.   
  
“Max?”   
  
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note for future reference: on 09/23 I finally fixed the formatting on this chapter!


	3. Time and Boundaries

Time is constant, it keeps running doesn’t matter what you think or feel about it. This is a scientific fact. This is a universal dogma. This is also bullshit. For example, the moment his eyes meet David’s, Max is sure time stopped for at least a thousand years or so.

“Max?” David’s voice is as familiar as it is strange now, like a piece of a half-forgotten dream or a too old magnetic tape. When he saw the man in the room Max tried to fool himself that this was just a look-alike, but now it is impossible to deny.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Max mutters, his own heart beating painfully hard on his skinny chest.

The silence and tension that hover in the air are thick enough to cut with a knife. No, it would be necessary a diamond tip to even scratch the surface. Both men are not a full meter away from one another but it seems like there is a solid barrier there. David is shaking in anticipation, eager to break this wall down. Max, on the other hand, doesn’t know if he wants this defense gone.

On the years after he was taken from Camp Campbell Max honed his instincts, especially his fight or flight drive that right now is overloading. He can hear the blood rushing, making a hollow sound on his eardrums, and his fingertips are tingling with a type of adrenaline very different from everything he had known.

While living with Ron, and now at work, Max learned that fleeing is usually the best solution; but this is no Ron and no brutish client. This is David. And Max has never run from David and he feels his life is about to change a lot so he doesn’t want this to change as well. Max’s own fists clench tightly as his rage engine starts to run.

After ten years David is finally in front of him. David who doesn’t look a day older than the last time they met. David who dared to give him hope and then sat still as he was taken to hell. David who has the gall to show up like that and buy Max for an hour in this shithole strip club.

David who is so genuinely relieved to see Max that he suddenly starts to cry before Max even gets the first insult out of his mouth.

“David, what the fuck?” Max exclaims at last and much to his chagrin David just snorts and starts to laugh as more and more tears rush down his face.

“I am sorry, Max, oh I must look pathetic!” David says, trying to contain his tears but ultimately failing. “I am just so happy to see you. I’ve never lost hope but I was so scared that you had died or something.”

Max deflates. David is downright sobbing now but he just keeps smiling and saying how much he missed Max and how glad he is to finally meet him.

“Jesus, David, take a seat or something,” Max says, uncomfortably rubbing the back of his neck.

David nods and sits down on the armchair where he hiccups and sobs a little longer before finally getting under control. His eyes are shiny and red and his nose seems a little bloated but there is no more tears or snot on his face. Max reaches for the box on the table and offers him some paper tissues and David obligingly cleans his face before turning to look at Max again.

“Forgive me for this scene, Max,” David asks, politely folding the paper tissues and tucking them in his pocket. “It is just that I spent the last ten years looking for you and when I saw you on that stage I kinda lost control over myself.”

Max remains quiet for a little while as he and David look at each other from head to toe.

David’s heart all but breaks when he sees how thin Max is nowadays. He doesn’t remember seeing the boy without his hoodie back at camp, but he remembers he was quite light and easy to pick up. His cheeks, however, were full and soft, so it was unlikely that he was malnourished as a child. Not that he is now, but it is so easy to see the outline of his ribs and his hips are quite pronounced and David worries that he isn’t feeding well.

Max also shatters a little inside when he gets to have a proper look on David. If at the first sight he looks basically the same, now Max sees how much frayed at the edges he is. There are lines around his eyes that speak more of frowns than laughter, and the área under them is a shade darker than the rest of his face and sunken. His nails are bitten to the bud and his entire demeanor is that of a man at the edge of a nervous breakdown.

“Are you okay now?” Max asks once David’s breathing is completely back to normal.

“Yes, thanks for your patience,” David says and his tone is more familiar now that he isn’t crying. “Gosh, there is so much I want to talk to you. I want to know what happened after you left Camp Campbel, and how is your fam... Max? What are you doing?”

David looks up at Max who is planted in front of him and is perfunctorily undoing his suspenders and opening the button on his tiny shorts.

“Well, I want to get started with my work if you don’t mind. You did buy me for an hour, didn’t you?”

“Max... I... I’m sorry our meeting happened under these circumstances but I truly don’t want to have sex with you.”

“Fuck me,” Max says matter-of-factly.

“What?” David stutters a little.

“No one has sex here, David, although I am proud of you for saying the work out loud,” Max replies but stops undoing his buttons. “And what do you mean you don’t want to fuck me? That’s why people come here!”

David looks very close to another crying fit. “Oh Max, this has never been my intention. I just came to have a drink with Gwen...”

“Did Gwen see me too?”

David blinks slowly. “No, she didn’t. She left before you entered the stage.” Max sighs in relief. “Well, as I was saying, having sex was not my intention when I came here and I definitely wouldn’t have sex with you.”

“I am trying not to be offended here, David,” Max mutters.

“No! I don’t mean it as an insult, please!” David squeaks and shakes his head in a negative. “You have become a handsome Young man, Max. The point here is I spent ten years going from one police station to the next and begging for any information on every missing child forum I could find, I am not in a mindset for sex, let alone with you. Darn it, I am having a difficult time wrapping my mind around the fact that you are an adult now! In those ten years I kept looking for a child, I guess I never considered that you would grow.”

Max falls silent and turns around to button up his shorts and discreetly wipe a traitorous tear that formed at the corner of his eye.

“Well, you’ve paid for my time nonetheless and if you aren’t satisfied with my work I might have problems,” Max says carefully. “There is still half an hour, what do you want me to do?”

David swallows dryly. Not in a billion years would he have imagined that this is how his meeting with Max finally happens. He imagined running into him in a park, running with his dog. Or to have his order taken by him in a Starbucks or even have him as his Uber driver. He would never guess that the first time he saw Max after those ten years the Young man would be covered in glitter in a strip club where he goes by the name Caramel Thunder.

“May... may I touch you?” David finally asks in a small voice.

“Come again?”

“I am sorry, but, may I touch you?” David repeats a little louder. “I’d like to be sure you are real, I want to be sure you are not my imagination or.. I don’t know.”

Max sighs deeply. “Of course you can touch me, moron.”

David stands up slowly as if approaching a small wild beast back at camp. He steps closer to Max and clearly telegraphs his intention as his hand reaches up to the Young man’s face. When he is about to touch Max’s cheek the other man flinches. It is discreet and fast but David doesn’t fail to notice it.

“Max, are you sure I can touch you?”

“Yeah, I said so, didn’t I?” Max averts his eyes as he speaks.

“And are you comfortable with me touching you?”

“David, did you get the fucking memo from reality? I am a whore, of course, you can touch me, I have no saying in this!”

David’s hand falls limply by his side. Language, he mutters softly.

“Max, your occupation doesn’t make you any less of a person,” he says carefully. “I won’t touch you if this makes you uncomfortable.”

“Then don’t!” Max all but screams at him.

David takes a big step back leaving Max breathing harshly and avoiding any eye contact at all. Once again they fall silent for a long time. Max’s breathing in back to normal when David finally smiles at him as speaks again.

“I understand, Max,” he says softly. “This has been quite an intense evening, you have every right to feel uncomfortable or overwhelmed. I know I am,” he laughs quietly. “Don’t worry, I won’t complain to the manager, it may be hard to believe but I am satisfied. I know you are alive and well, I am truly glad.”

Max finally looks up at him. His eyes are faintly wet but as much as David feels like reaching up to clean his tears he doesn’t move towards him.

“Will you tell Gwen about me?”

“She has been as worried as I have and she would surely be glad to know you are alright but I won’t tell her if you don’t want me to.”

“Please, don’t,” Max asks quietly.

“Then I won’t. Don’t worry about it.”

Max smiles the tiniest smile David has ever seen. It is a smile, though, and David replies in kind.

“David, will you come back here?”

“Will you hate me too much if I do?”

Max snorts lightly. “This is the easiest money I’ve ever made here so, no, I won’t.”

“Thank you, Max,” David smiles and his face looks as bright and Young as Max remembers it. “I will be on my way now, but I hope to see you again.”

“Now you know where to find me,” Max replies with a hint of sarcasm.

“I do,” David agrees amiably and turns on his heels to head to the door. After a step, he stops and reaches for something in his pocket – a business card that he tucks on the frame of the mirror. “And now you know where to find me too.”

He leaves Max alone in room number 13. The door closes silently behind him and Max slowly counts to ten before crossing the room to snatch the card from the mirror frame. Physical evidence that David had been there, with him, and that he worried and cared. Max studies the card, the paper is thick and glossy and apparently, David has become a photographer which is somehow amusing. Max has never imagined David as anything else but a crappy summer camp counselor. Guess the two of them didn’t take time into account.

Time doesn’t stop, nor does it slow down or revert, doesn’t matter how much you want it to. But as he traces the edges of David’s business card with tears in his eyes, Max starts to believe that sometimes time could offer a second chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god you guys are the best audience I could wish for!  
> I am receiving so much feedback and so much love for this fic <3  
> I have no words to thank you for all your support!!


	4. Sweet and Bad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I have no words to thank you for your attention and feedbacks and over all love you are giving this fic! I love you, guys!
> 
> Secondly, I have decided to turn the rating higher because this is supposed to be a porn fic... There will be chapters with no sex or sexual themes so I'll use disclaimers on the notes as I see fit. With this thought in mind:
> 
>  
> 
> **** DISCLAIMER ****
> 
>  
> 
> This chapter has a long scene of Max dancing with a girl, there is grinding and panting but nothing too graphic. On the other hand, Max spends the night with a client and although the sex scene is not explicit it is very clear what happened between them. I won't tag Max/OC on the relationship tag because this IS a sex worker fic and I don't quite see the point of using this tag in this situation - the main pairing and endgame relationship here is MAx/David and that is the only ship tag I'll add here.

Not telling Gwen about Max is one of the most difficult things David has ever done. They have shared that heavy burden for so long! She deserves some kind of closure as well, but he had promised Max not to tell and he would never betray his trust. Not only that but David himself is still unsure about what to think about the whole situation. Not even once on those ten years had David imagined this is how everything would work out.

Back at his house David sits at his desk and is immediately drawn to the police sketch pinned to the corkboard. He has spent so long looking at it in the last decade but suddenly it feels like this is the first time. Seeing Max, living breathing and real, brought back memories from Camp Campbell and now David is able to see the inaccuracies on the image that had looked perfect for so many years.

The eyes should be rounder, but the nose isn’t quite as pointy in real life as it is in the paper. Closing his eyes David sees the real Max. The real real Max, the skinny young man he had met not a full hour ago. It is still difficult to face the fact that the kid on the portrait doesn't exist anymore, that Max is a grown man now and not a small 10-year-old.

He spends some long few minutes just looking at the image but a message from Gwen catches his attention after a while. She is apologizing for leaving him at the bar and asking about the show. He replies with many emojis, saying that he understands that she was needed at work and that the show was okay. He downplays the show because he doesn't want to lure her into the bar again lest she meets Max before he is ready to see her. After a short message exchange he showers and goes to bed.

 

** 

 

For the first time in years he dreams of Camp Campbell. In his dream he and Gwen wave at the last Campbell campers as they leave with their parents. A scene that didn't happen in real life but is easy enough for him to pretend. After the campers leave Gwen hugs him and goes away too. Only he is left on the camp, or so he thinks. He spots a floof of black hair. 

“Max?” he calls as he approaches the half hidden boy, but Max evades him before he gets too close. This repeats for a while, David chasing Max across the camp grounds, always a step too far to catch him.

Max is sneaky and fast and after some time David completely loses sight of him. Panic starts to bubble in David’s chest and he rubs his wrists anxiously as he continues calling for the boy.

Suddenly someone grabs David from behind. Long and slim arms envelope  him tightly and a solid and warm weight settles on his back.

“Take me home, David” it is Max, but not 10-year-old Max. The height is wrong, the voice is wrong. This is adult Max, hugging David and asking to be taken home in a shy whisper that child Max would never use. When David turns around he can see just the bright green of Max’s eyes incredibly close to him before waking up.

 

**

 

David tries to control his desire of meeting Max again. The young man would certainly appreciate some space and time after their reunion. He occupies his time with work and small tasks but four days after the fateful evening Gwen took him to The Fruit Bowl, David finds himself in a job related meeting only two block away from the strip club. The meeting ends relatively early and David doesn't have anything particularly important to do, so, taking a deep breath, he decides to pay The Fruit Bowl a visit.

He is a little off kilter when he arrives, it had been a lot easier to enter and take a seat when Gwen was with him. Being by himself is unnerving but he rises his head and walks up to the counter and sits down on one of the tall stools with a somewhat confident stride.

“Good evening sir, would you like a drink?” the bartender asks just as David leans on the counter. He supposes it would be quite strange to come to a bar and don’t drink anything so he looks at the menu and recognizes the ingredients of the cocktail he had had the other night.

“I’d like a Red Bomb, please.”

The bartender rises an eyebrow but says nothing as he turns around and starts mixing the drink. David spins on the stool until his elbows are resting backwards on the counter and he is completely facing the unlit stage.

“You were here earlier this week, weren't you?” the bartender asks as he slides David’s drink to him.

“Yes, I was,” David says quietly.

“I’m glad you enjoyed the service, sir,” the man says amiably. “Tonight's show will start shortly, I hope you like it as well.”

David is not particularly interested in the show, he just wants to see and talk to Max. He knows, however, that there is a kind of protocol he must follow in this situation and wait for the show is part of it. He sips his drink absentmindedly, his eyes wandering across the bar without paying much attention to anything. The music is soft and the lights are low, it is actually a pleasant place to be. 

Suddenly the lights above the stage go on with blinding intensity, the people around the stage and at the counter turn expectantly to look at the well lit platform. The music gets louder and a woman enters the stage, smiling and waving at the audience. People start to shout and clap, and David vaguely recognizes the woman as the main performer from the other night.

“Hello my darlings!” she greets enthusiastically. “How are you on this lovely night?”

The audience screams and waves at her and she giggles and blow kisses, much to the viewer's delight. She struts around the stage as she speaks.

“For the new friends: it is a pleasure to meet you, I am Strawberry Bonbon! For the old friends: it is a pleasure to have you here once more!” On cue, the audience screams and hoots again. Strawberry Bonbon smiles and moves to the center of the stage again. She is chubby and bubbly and unbelievably cute, her hair is arranged in bubblegum pink curls that bounce as she moves around. David likes her immediately.

“You know what I like the most about our little Fruit Bowl?” she asks and the audience replies with ' _no'_ and 'tell us'. “I love the variety of flavors we have here, don't you?”

“Yeeeees,” the audience replies eagerly.

“All our fruity bits are very appetizing,” she says and the music changes at her words. The cheery tune is substituted by a more dramatic one, a low and strong bassline accompanied by fast guitar riffs and an electronic beat. “But there is a special treat I can't get enough…”

The spotlight moves to the other side of the stage and David's breath catches in his throat when he sees Max walking across the opposite catwalk. He has a very low cut tank top that exposes a good portion of his chest, and a leather jacket over it. His pants are so tight it is possible to see his slender muscles moving under it. He looks a perfect mix of bored and annoyed at the attention people are giving him. He flips them off casually, his hips moving enticingly as he walks to the center of the stage.

He stops right in front of Strawberry Bonbon and she walks around him, sliding her hand across his shoulders and collar bones.

“Look how bad he is,” she jests. “Don't we all love a bad boy?” the audience goes crazy when she leans down to lick at Max’s exposed neck. “So sweet it tastes bad…”

On cue Max pushes her away and she goes easily, they hold hands at the last moment and the music goes louder as the audience screams and hollers. Max pulls her back and presses her tightly against himself. He dips her low, his face pressed to her generous chest, his hand slides down to grip her thigh and bring it high up his hip. They grind and move against each other in sharp, energetic movements.

David's jaw drops comically as he watches the performance, his drink forgotten on the counter.

Strawberry twirls around Max and yanks his jacket off. The audience screams and he looks annoyed at them. And then his eyes meet David's and he seems taken aback for exactly half a second before he smirks deviously in the older man’s direction. He is right at the center of the stage, facing David and under the biggest spotlight on the house. His stance is wide and powerful, his heavy boots stomping the stage to the rhythm of the music.

Max throws his head back when Strawberry moves behind him, her hands sliding down his thighs and then up his abdomen and chest. His threadbare shirt gets caught in her fingers as she moves her hands higher and higher, exposing his torso to the hollering audience.

David swallows forcefully. Max is just so handsome and confident. And sexy. David can't believe himself as he feels heat rushing to his face and the loud drumming of his heart threatens to overcome the music. _Max is definitely not a kid anymore_ , he thinks dumbly as Max finally drops to his knees on the stage, his tank top firmly held on Strawberry Bonbon’s small hands. She spins it over her head and tosses it into the public. A group of women, possibly a bachelorette’s party, snatches it from the air with loud squeals and whistles.

“Oh, he is already on stage,” a voice breaks David out of his reverie. A man is quickly sliding onto the stool next to him, his eyes glued to the stage. The man throws a quick smile at David but doesn't spend more than one second looking away from Max. “Caramel is so fucking hot, right?”

Caramel? Oh yes, David recalls Strawberry Bonbon calling Max Something Caramel or Caramel Something. David nods in agreement because he can't do much more as he watches Max crawling over the edge of the stage and starting his floor work.

He  _is_ fucking hot and the third world war starts to rage on inside David as he moves with feline grace and grinds sensually against the floor. Max kneels on the edge of the stage, his knees floating on open air as he throws his head back and arches his spine, the sweat glistening on his beautiful dark skin. He grinds and moves his hips as his hands travel across his body. They slide up his spread legs and up his sides until he briefly encircles his own neck, making a choking noise before tugging at his hair. David notices that the back and sides of his head are shaved in an undercut.

Max’s hands drop down to his crotch where they frame his cock for a second. Strawberry steps behind him at this point and she sinks her cherry pink nails into the mass of black curls on his head. She tugs back and his spine arches even more, the angle exposing all of him to the audience. To David. Her other hand rests on his neck, teasing down his collarbones as she turns his head one side and then other. He bites his lower lip.

Strawberry tugs up and Max rises weightlessly to his feet. She dips him once and when he gets back up it is his time to spin her around and offer her to the audience. They are perfectly slotted together, legs and hips in sync for a moment before he turns her around and once again buries his face on her breasts. He takes her flimsy top between his teeth before dropping her unceremoniously. She falls gracefully - proof that the movement has been rehearsed many times.

Strawberry then starts her own floor routine but David can't pay attention to her. Behind the woman, Max spits the top on his palm and moves it across his neck and chest, soaking it in his glistening sweat. He spins it around with a flick of his wrist and smiles deviously as he tosses it in David's direction.

The little piece of cloth flutters in the air for a second and lands squarely on David's lap. The man by his side eyes David with a frown and his eyes seek the piece of fabric but David grabs it possessively, hands trembling and head spinning.

Max blows a little kiss in his direction before moving across the stage to meet Strawberry Bonbon.

“Excuse me” David mumbles, slapping a few bills onto the counter and leaving the bar with his face as red as his unfinished drink.

As the door closes behind David's heels the hollering audience muffles the sound of Max's pants being ripped off his body by Strawberry's nimble fingers.

 

**

 

Ivan has tended to the Fruit Bowl bar for years and has seen his fair share of clients overreacting to the performances but he doesn't remember seeing this kind of look on anyone’s face before. This man looks at Caramel the same way a child looks at a pony: as if he was the most magical and precious thing in the universe. The bartender Watches in amusement as the new client reacts to Caramel and Strawberry dancing. It is true that they are amazing together, what with the whole duality of their personalities and physical forms. They are a house favorite but this man has such visceral reactions Ivan can't help but watch him instead of the show. 

The show continues for a few minutes and when it finishes the applause is loud and long. Caramel shrugs his jacket back onto his mostly naked form and swaggers off the stage as Strawberry announces the next performance. The man who has arrived in the middle of the show turns back at Ivan to ask for a drink just as Max shows up by the bartender’s side.

“Hey, Ivan, where is Da…..t guy here?” Max quickly avoids saying David's name when he sees the other client sitting at the counter.

“Hello, Caramel,” the man greets him. “You have a new friend? Do you like him better than me?”

Max scoffs. “Does it look like I have friends, Sam?”

“Oh c’mon Caramel, I know deep down you like me,” Sam says with a smile equal parts dumb and cynical.

“Sure Sam,” Max replies. “Deeeeeeep down maybe.”

Sam’s smile turns predatory and he encircles Max's waist with a possessive arm. “Well, maybe if I touch you deep enough I can make these feelings flower.” He buries his face on the crook of Max’s neck.

“You should try finding my prostate while you are at it,” Max comments with an eye roll. Sam laughs boisterously and turns to face Ivan.

“Gimme the keys, Ivan,” he extends his hand to receive the key. “I have a strong craving for Caramel right now. I’ll return him in two hours.”

Max disentangles himself from Sam’s grip and takes the lead down the corridor to the bedroom. Despite not liking Sam very much he is a sensible and generous client and Max has few regulars so he might as well be nice with the ones he has. Sam still thinks Max's sour humor and cynical attitude is part of his character, Caramel Thunder, and he enjoys it immensely so Max is more than happy to be kind of an asshole to the man from time to time.

Ivan watches them leave. The other man, the one with auburn hair and who looked at Caramel with stars in his eyes would surely treat the boy better than Sam. Sam is not a bad man but Ivan has been working in this area for long enough to identify a possessive client when he sees one. Caramel’s attitude is fun and enticing on stage but once people have a night with him they rarely ask for seconds. Sam is one of the few people who happened to like the rotten behavior in the bedroom as much as on stage. The bartender briefly wonders what kind of problems this newcomer might bring.

Two hours later the bar is a lot emptier, the shows have ended and only one girl lazily pole dances for and uninterested audience of barely ten people. Most of the workers have gone home or are still in the bedrooms with their clients and Ivan is cleaning the counter when Caramel comes back with a grimace on his face and the keys hanging limply from his middle finger.

“Is Sam gone?” Ivan asks.

“Yeah,” Max tosses the keys over the counter. “Fucker comes and goes if you get my drift…” Ivan snorts a small laugh. “Say, when did Da - t man leave?”

Ivan studies Max for a moment. “He left just before you lost your pants. It looked like he was about to bust a nut.” Max laughs loudly but stops suddenly with a pained expression.

“That might have been priceless…” he says, voice hoarse. Ivan lifts an eyebrow.

“He looked quite enamored of you,” Ivan says carefully. “You should invest in him.”

Max scoffs and rolls his eyes. “I don't think so, that guy is a lost cause. I wouldn't be surprised if he was still a virgin.”

“Well, not many people appreciate you enough to pay for your time,” Ivan says all businesslike. “I know that working here is not the dream of your life but you have a contract to fulfill and investing on good clients is the easiest way of doing it,” the older man says as he pours a tall glass of cranberry juice and serves it to Max. The stripper stares at the liquid for a while, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. Still, in silence, he takes a sip and frowns.

“This is only juice, Ivan! Do I look like a child?”

“A little, yes, bratty like one,” Ivan replies with a small smile before slipping two aspirins to Max. “You look like shit, I know Sam can be enthusiastic sometimes and you shouldn't mix painkillers and alcohol.”

Max smiles a little as he pops the pills onto his mouth and washes them down with the juice.

“Thanks, Ivan,” he says softly. “Hey, are you charging me for this?”

Ivan looks pensive for a second.

“Well, your new friend left so quickly I didn't have time to return his change so I’ll put this on his tab.” Max smiles again as he finishes the juice and stands up on sore legs.

Max leaves the Fruit Bowl through the back door. He is surprised when he sees Strawberry Bonbon sitting there on the curb waiting for him.

“Ivan said Sam got two hours with you after the show,” she says as she gets up and dusts some dirt off her jeans. “I thought you would like a ride home after this.”

“Yes, please!” Max groans as they head to the small parking lot. “I wasn't feeling like blowing a taxi driver for a ride.”

Strawberry giggles and slaps his arm. “Oh, please, Maxy, we both know you never had and never will do this.” Max shrugs.

“One day will be the first and it will be traumatic for everyone involved.”

She giggles once more as they climb onto her small scooter. Strawberry fastens her helmet and Max just tosses his on. He grabs her waist and grits his teeth as the shaking and bumping abuse his exhausted body.

“Hey, Chris?” He calls her softly. “When we arrive, can I take the first shower?”

Max and Christine, known as Strawberry Bonbon at the Fruit Bowl, share a small apartment a few minutes away from the strip club. The place is tiny and old but the location is good and the neighborhood is not as decadent as some of the other cheap places downtown. They share it because otherwise neither would be able to afford a place near work.

The apartment is simple, one bedroom and one living room turned bedroom, a small kitchen, and bathroom. The building is five stores tall and famous for the problematic boiler. They rarely ever get hot water for more than one shower and usually Max and Chris fight nail and tooth for the first turn on the shower but that night Max is looking drained and exhausted and he asked so politely that Christine nods immediately.

“Yeah Max, of course, you can have the first shower.” She smiles at him in the rear mirror and he replies with a tired smile.


	5. Red Bombs and Pole Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had this idea for one chapter - but then I wrote and wrote and wrote and I realized it would be better if I made two chapters because otherwise it would be too big and would take too long to update.
> 
> In this chapter, we see David's full reaction to Max's performance and we also get a little sad. (spoiler: next chapter we will get a lot sad)

David leaves the Fruit Bowl in a trance. He can only hear his wild heartbeat, drumming on his ears and chest as his thoughts run havoc and his blood rushes far away from his head. He barely pays attention to the way home, hand trembling around the piece of fabric tossed at him by Max. He has tunnel vision as the taxi approaches his house.

As soon as he pays the driver he flings himself into the living room. There is sweat on his neck and his breathing is shallow now that he doesn’t have to force himself to take even breaths for the sake of propriety. He grits his teeth as he leans against the closed door, his cock finally being fully recognized by his brain as a priority. His hands are shaky when he hastily unbuttons his jeans and lets them slide down slim legs.

The first touch is a gift. He can barely remember the last time he was so horny and he doesn’t care enough to try to; he just focuses on the relief he finds in the gentle grip of his fingers around his erection. There is so much precum already, he had been simmering on it since the first step Max took on that stage. Max…

Behind closed eyelids, Max is all David sees. His bored yet charming expression, the flirty kiss, and the sultry smiles he insisted on sending in David’s direction. His swaying hips moving in tandem with the music, his chest rising and falling rapidly with the effort. The sweat running down his torso and neck.

David’s breath hitches as he clearly remembers the choking sound Max made when he encircled his long hands around his slender neck. The music was so loud, the crowd was cheering, David’s own heart was a deafening thunder; but still, David has listened to that sound. That small choking gasp. That enticing broken breath. David groans loudly.

Max… Max Max MAX! Handsome and powerful and so, so sexy. And a tiny part of David thinks this is so wrong, but it is such a small part, really. David had had a few days to come to terms with this new reality, and he was doing a good job of slowly accepting that Max is a grown up now. He just didn’t expect that reality to come running down a slope to kick him in the middle of the face so early on.

David’s hips keep moving against his fist, his fingers tighten and shift around his cock as he thrusts and moans and shakes. He takes a deep, wavering breath, and he catches traces of a different smell on the air. Alarmed, he slows down, looking around until he remembers the frayed tank top on his hand. Surely it belonged to Strawberry but Max had been generous while rubbing the white fabric down his neck and torso, so close to the hem of his pants, gliding down the valley of his hipbones…

David buries his face on the fabric still damp and sparkling with stray pieces of glitter and inhales deeply. His senses are assaulted by the scent of sweat and cheap cologne and he moans so loudly he should worry about it but he genuinely doesn’t care for anything else but for the relief coming fast his way.

His movements lose coordination and he grows more and more breathless as orgasm approaches. When it hits him his spine arches in a sharp angle and he muffles his scream on the fabric now soaked with Max’s sweat and his own. His heart beats wildly as the tension rises for an unbearable second and releases all at once. He sags against the door, sweat prickling his neck and come staining his hands and shoes.

The glow and satisfaction don’t last long, though. The cold air of the living room quickly prompts him to move, and his own conscious slowly start to freak out at what had just happened. He drags his feet upstairs to the bathroom and avoids his own eyes on the mirror while he undresses to shower.

On the shower, however, free of the judging stare of his own reflection, he ends up hard again. This time, his mind is full of soft thoughts, of slow and sweet mornings, and of the faces Max would do when lost to his own pleasure for real, and not for an audience. This time, when he comes, he doesn’t feel so full of guilt.

***

One week later David returns to The Fruit Bowl. This time he is more confident and almost manages to hold his head high as he takes what has become his usual seat by the counter. Strawberry Bonbon is at the corner of the stage doing something in the sound system, but aside from her David doesn’t see any other employee. He wonders where is the rest of the staff when an annoyed voice called his attention.

“Oi, loser, what do you want?”

David spins around in the stool and finds himself face to face with Max, who is leaning against the sink behind the counter.

“Max!” David exclaims reflexively and Max throws himself at him to cover his mouth.

“Are you fucking crazy? Don’t call me by my name here,” Max frowns, outraged. “There is a reason Bonbon came up with that ridiculous name, and as much as I dislike it I want you to use it here.”

David nods dumbly and Max retreats back to the side of the sink.

“I am sorry, I was caught by surprise,” David explains. “What are you doing here?”

“I work here,” Max deadpans.

“I thought you worked… there,” David points at the stage.

“Yeah yeah, usually I do but Ivan sprained his ankle moving some boxes in the storage room and I need to substitute him for the week.”

“Oh, I hope he recovers.”

“For fucks sakes, David, he sprained his ankle and not got cancer.”

David frowns. “Even though… So are you making me a drink tonight?”

“Yes, and if you want to help me you will ask for a lot of drinks because I’ll receive part of the value.”

“Ah, yes, I’d love to help you,” David says, a bit confused. “What is the drink with the lowest alcohol you have?”

Max rolls his eyes so hard it is a miracle they don’t fall off his face.

“Beer.”

“Really?” David asks surprised. “But… I don’t like beer.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Max sighs. “Sit down, you child-man, I’ll make you something soft.”

“I like the Red Bomb,” David prompts with a big smile.

“Of course you do,” Max says, back turned to David and a small but fond smile on his face.

Max efficiently mixes the ingredients to a Red Bomb and serves it with a flourish. David accepts with a smile and quickly takes a sip. Max’s drink is a lot sweeter than the other David had drunk before.

“It is good,” David says with a satisfied sigh.

“Yeah, I used less vodka because you are a baby or something.”

Mas turns around to wash the measure cups and mixers he used to prepare David’s drink and leaves David to his own devices for a moment. The former camp counselor watches the young man with attention. Max is wearing a button-down shirt and black slacks that night, the curls at the top of his head are held up by an elastic band and there is some glitter behind his ear.

“Caramel?” David calls him cautiously and Max turns around promptly. “May we talk a little?”

Max frowns a bit. He trusts David not to bring any subject too personal right there in public, but he is still uneasy as he nods slightly.

“You keep drinking, we keep talking,” he says at last.

David chugs half his glass down and shows it to Max as a proof of good will. Max snorts a little.

“I know this is not the time or place for a proper conversation, but I’m dying to know anything about your life. It has been ten years, but even back at camp you were so closed I never learned too much about you.”

Max buys some time wiping down the counter. Where does he start? So much happened, for good or bad, and there is just no way this conversation will not turn very personal and very emotive soon.

“I share an apartment with Strawberry Bonbon,” Max says at last and David looks back at her and smiles widely.

“Is she your girlfriend?” Max chokes on a laughter.

“Bonbon? Fuck no, she is my best friend! We tried dating but it didn’t work out but we figured we are the best of buddies.”

Max has a best friend! David thinks, happiness filling his chest. He takes a big gulp of his Red Bomb.

“That is very nice, Max. You two looked very good the other night,” he adds in a low voice, suddenly more interested in the perspiration gliding down his glass than in Max.

“It was her idea, she is very passionate about performing,” Max informs with a fond smile as the girl in question starts to talk to the audience.

Max’s attention is constantly taken by other clients but he is always returning to David, to either answer some inane little question or to fill his glass.

If asked, Max would tell it happened very fast. In one moment David is just a little happy and red on the face. The next he is wasted.

“Oh my god David, are you serious?” Max says, hand resting upon his hip as he watches David babbling to the coat hung on the back of a chair by his side.

“Heeey, Caramel!” David snorts and goes into a fit of giggles. “Did… did you notice how funny this word is? Caramel. Car a mel. What is a mel?” Max stares, half amused and half horrified as David starts to tear up because of how much he is laughing.

“Maybe it is time for you to stop drinking…” Max says, carefully extracting the half-full glass away from David’s slack hand. As if on cue Strawberry Bonbon speaks on the sound system:

“My lovelies! We are so happy tonight, it is time to have some fun!”

David cheers with no grace whatsoever. He turns to look at Max with too shiny eyes.

“It is time to have fun! Go dance, it is fun to dance!”

“I am not dancing tonight, David, I am tending to the bar, remember?”

David booes. “You are no fuuuuuun! Hey, I have an idea! You know I have lots of good ideas, right? Remember how much fun we had at camp? All good ideas!”

Max watches in horror as David stands up on unstable legs and goes to the edge of the stage. He waves wildly in Starberry’s direction until he finally catches her attention. She kneels by the side of the stage and he says something in her ear. Whatever it is it makes her laugh and she throws a quick, amused, glance at Max before offering David a hand and pulling him onto the stage.

“Didn’t I say it was time to have fun?” She says to the audience. “Our good friend here wants to show how much he likes us! He will dance for us while the performers finish their warm up. Please, let’s receive him with lots of love!”

The audience claps and whistles as David wobbles to the center of the stage. “If you’re not dancing for me, I’ll dance for you!” He yells from across the bar and Max feels the urge to hide behind the counter. Or to die, he isn’t picky. The music begins and David starts to dance.

Max would genuinely like to die out of pure embarrassment. David is so tall and gangly as if he had never fully grown out of the awkward limbs of teenagehood, and the alcohol doesn’t help in the slightest. He is out of beat and his movement lack any kind of appeal. But he looks so happy! Max remembers how annoying David’s unbreakable good humor was at Camp Campbell, but right now he finds himself charmed by it. David is making an utter fool of himself but he is having so much fun while doing so.

The audience seems to enjoy David’s terrible performance. At least they seem to be laughing with David and not at him. Max relaxes at last. That is until David sees the pole at the corner of the stage and starts to giggle his way there.

Max searches for Bonbon’s eyes over the public but she isn’t paying attention to him. There is no chance of Max getting to the stage in time to stop David from a surely mal succeeded attempt at pole dancing. Once, at Camp Campbell, the flag got caught on the pole and David easily climbed it to fix the flag. Surely this same memory is fuelling David’s misguided confidence. _Back at that time you were ten years younger and weren’t drunk off your ass_ , Max wants to yell but it is too late.

David grabs the pole with a determined stare and twirls around it to test his balance point. The first few spins around the pole go uneventfully. The audience yells incentives and whistles cheerfully. David grows bolder. He climbs a step up and throws his legs out as he spins, it looks terrible and uncoordinated but he doesn’t stop laughing. This goes on for a while, with David spinning and kicking around out of rhythm while the audience hollers at him.

Max is almost convinced that his stress had been for naught when David’s hand slips off the pole and sends him flying across the stage.

“David!” He can’t help but scream as he rushes between the armchairs and tables to the stage. Strawberry gets to David before him, she is helping David stand up when Max finally climbs up the stage.

“He is your friend, isn’t he?” Strawberry asks as Max flings David’s arm over his shoulders to help support him.

“Yeah, yes he is.”

“Good,” Strawberry allows Max to shoulder David’s weight and gently starts to guide them out of the stage by the staircase behind it. “Take him home, or to the hospital, I don’t know. I’ll have someone else tend the bar, don’t worry I’ll tell Sid what happened and he won’t discount the day from your payment.”

“Thanks, Bon,” Max says as she nods vigorously and moves away to appease the audience with her charming smile.

David mutters all the time. His good humor is gone and he sounds lost and confused - Max can’t blame him, though. Max guides them to the side door and out of the club. At the sidewalk, the young man evaluates his options.

He doesn’t feel like taking David back to his own apartment, especially because there wouldn’t be enough space for the two of them and Bonbon once she returned home. Also, he believes David would prefer his own house to nurse his hangover come morning. The problem is: Max doesn’t know David’s address.

“Hey, asshole, give me your phone, I’ll call you an uber.”

David looks at him for a full five seconds before slowly reaching into his pocket for the phone. Max takes it and clicks the button on the bottom of the screen.

“What is your password?”

“I can’t tell you my password, you might use my cellphone!”

“Fuck…” Max takes a deep breath. “I want to use your phone, can you give me the password, please?”

“Yes,” David replies immediately. Fucking drunk asshole… “It is… it is two, oh, one, seven.”

Max types in the number and quickly calls for the uber, thankful that David actually saved his address as ‘home’ in the app. Max watches the little car moving across the map when he notices something.

“What is your password, again?”

“Two, oh, one, seven,” David replies dutifully. Max barks out a laugh.

“I can’t believe you use the year Camp Campbell ended as your password.”

“I don’t!” David replies bitterly.

“Yeah, you do! I was there, I remember it.”

“2017 is not the year Camp Campbell ended,” David says seriously. “2017 is the year Max was lost,” he suddenly looks very miserable. Max stares at him with eyes wide as saucers.

“David?”

“I lost him, I should have protected him but I lost him!” David starts to cry at this point. He doesn’t even sob or shake, his tears big and shiny and falling at an alarming rate. “You look like him…”

“David, it is me,” Max says carefully. “I am Max, you found me.”

“I found you?” David’s eyes shine with hope and not only tears.

“Yes, yes you did. I am here with you, David.”

“May I hug you?”

Max’s own eyes are full at this point so he silently nods his head and David wastes no time in wrapping ridiculously long arms around him. David is sobbing now, his hands clawing at Max’s shirt as if the young man would vanish if David dared to let him go. After a second Max returned the hug, his own hands digging into the folds of David’s jacket.

When the uber arrives Max maneuvers them both into the back seat and David clings to him all the way to his house. If at the first moment Max was considering just dumping David into the uber and calling it a night, now he doesn’t feel like parting from the older man. David tries to unlock the door but fails and offers Max the key after his fifth attempt. Max opens the door easily and guides David inside.

He doesn’t have time to study much of the small living room and kitchen on the first floor of David’s tiny loft. David clumsily removes his own shoes and Max copies him before asking David where is the bedroom.

“...stairs…” David’s answer is muffled and slow. His eyes are half-lidded, his cheeks pink with alcohol and sleep.

Max guides him upstairs where he finds an open space divided into office and bedroom. David instinctively goes to the bed where he flings himself without much care. He lands on his face and grumbles something Max doesn’t hear well. Max sits down by his side and, with some effort, turn him into his back. He removes David’s belt and the wallet and cellphone from his pocket. He also removes David’s button shirt, leaving him in a threadbare undershirt that is much more appropriate for sleep.

The young man is torn between going downstairs to the couch or just leaving at all, but David grabs his wrist before he leaves the bed.

“It is you, Max, isn’t it?” David asks once again.

“Yes, David, it is me.”

“But I lost you.”

“Yeah, you kinda did, you dumb fuck,” Max replies with a smile. “But you found me again.”

“I am glad,” David says quietly as he brings Max’s hand close and kisses his knuckles reverently. Max’s throat constricts with emotion and he has to swallow down forcefully before answering.

“I am glad too, David.”

“Stay here tonight, please?” David asks meekly. “My head hurts.”

Max laughs softly. “It will hurt a lot more tomorrow morning, dumbass.”

David looks at him with stars in his eyes.

“It is okay, at least you will be here.”


	6. Memories and Regrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **DISCLAIMER**
> 
> On this chapter, David tells Max what's happened to him in the ten years they were apart. Overall the chapter is light but there is an attempt of suicide described near the end, so consider this a trigger warning. Also, there is some homophobic language and behavior here, courtesy of Ron.  
> I also added my headcanon that David comes from a somewhat negligent family and has suffered with depression for many years but never learned how to deal with it. I see his behavior as a kind of "you are not depressed, you just aren't trying to be happy" kind of thing, which led him to try TOO hard to be happy :(

David falls asleep immediately, Max is not so lucky. The young man stays there, sitting at the edge of the bed with his hand tightly held by David for a long time. Eventually, he lays down as well, never removing his hand from the older man’s grip.

The window is open but the night is warm and pleasant, and the yellow light from a lamp post streams into the room bathing everything in amber colors. Max takes this moment to see David up close without pressure or rush. It might be the light, but his hair is a lot more on the red side than Max remembers, and now it is a little shorter and parted sideways instead of swept back. Sleeping and a bit drunk he looks quite peaceful, the lines around his eyes relaxed and the sunken area under them not so pronounced. Max remembers David’s words from earlier that night. I am dying to know anything about your life.

Well, if Max is completely honest he is curious about what happened to David on those years as well. First and foremost he is curious about the outcome of Campbell’s investigation and arrest. He vaguely remembers seeing on TV that Cameron Campbell was trying to be extradited to Thailand or something, David would certainly know what happened. But Max is also curious about David’s personal life.

How did he end up as a photographer?  What is up with this tiny hipster house? Why did he cut those floofy bangs that Max secretly enjoyed as a child? The young man has many questions.

Why do you look so tired? Why aren’t you so happy anymore?

Max’s eyes drift across David’s form. His long and thin neck disappearing inside the collar of his loose shirt, his legs as long and slim as Max remembers, his arms still thin and pale. Max never understood how David could be so pale when he loved the outdoors so much…

They are laying very close together, David’s deep breaths fan over their joined hands and Max moves a little closer still to brush a lock of auburn hair off his face when something catches his attention.

The yellow light from the street creates soft shadows on the contours of numerous thin, raised white lines down David’s wrist and forearms. Max moves their hands slightly so he can see David’s arm from a different angle, but changing the light doesn’t change the image. Quite the opposite, the new point of view allows Max to see how far the scars go, crisscrossing the slim limb like a spider web.

Max gasps softly, his free hand covering his mouth to avoid unnecessary noises. His eyes fill with tears and his heart sinks. What could have happened to make David, the most cheerful and optimistic person in the world, do something like this to himself?

David must have sensed Max’s turmoil even in his sleep because at this moment he tugs the younger man close and nuzzles his chest making soft cooing noises. Max throws his free arm around David and before he notices he is humming soothingly as the other man falls into an even deeper slumber.

***

David wakes up in the morning to the soft sound of another person’s breathing. It takes him some time to identify the sound. He hadn’t shared his bed with someone else in a long time. Before he fully opens his eyes he is assaulted by memories of the previous night. Oh gosh, darn it! Did he actually pole dance in front of an entire audience? He hopes he is hallucinating but his body aches in a way that suggests that he isn’t. He groans slightly, a headache exploding behind closed eyes.

Now he knows why they are called Red Bombs… he is wrecked and regretting that fifth drink. And the fourth as well.

Cautiously he opens his eyes. The room is very bright with sunlight entering through the window but David’s eyes are thankfully sheltered from the light by Max’s shadow. Max. David smiles when he sees him there, face mashed against the pillow and mouth hanging half opened as he sleeps.

Max not only cared enough to bring him home but he stayed there with him through the night. David’s eyes itch slightly and he knows how emotional he tends to get when drunk, so he just imagines what kind of embarrassing thing he did in front of Max. Whatever is was, it wasn’t enough to drive the young man away, and for this he is grateful. David is craving a tall glass of water and some aspirins more than anything else in the world, but he is so comfortable there with Max’s arm loosely looped over his shoulders and the soft rhythm of the other man’s breathing close to him. He just doesn’t find it in himself to move yet.

Eventually, he can’t ignore his need for water and painkillers so he carefully moves away from Max and goes to the small en-suite bathroom. He doesn’t look as bad as he expected, save from a small redness around his eyes he looks good. Rested. It is impossible to tell how hungover he actually is, which is really great. He washes his face and drinks a few handfuls of water before digging into the small cabinet after aspirins and antiacid.

He doesn’t know what time it is but he doesn’t have anything important to do and the idea of slipping into bed again is truly attractive.

The idea of slipping into bed again is rudely aborted when he comes back to the bedroom and finds Max awake and looking at him with very serious eyes.

“Good morning, Max,” he says lightly as he sits on the edge of the bed, not sure if he should or could get closer to Max again.

“Good morning, how is your head?”

“Aching,” David replies with sincerity. “But not terribly so, I’ve just taken some aspirins so it’ll get better soon. I hope.” Max nods slowly.

“David, I want to ask you something but I know the answer will be very personal,” Mas says in measured words, his eyes slowly drifting away from David’s. “You’ve respected my boundaries ever since we met again, and I want to do the same for you, but I also really want to know what happened to you.”

At this point, he is looking at David’s limp arm where it rests between them on the bed. David follows his line of sight and quickly understands what he means. The older man takes a steadying breath but turns his arm so that Max can have a full view of the scars.

“Is this what you want to ask?” David questions softly, and Max nods and looks away.

This time David moves closer and rests his back on the wall, Max sits up by his side, shoulder by shoulder. They both keep looking at the opposite wall as David clears his throat.

“In these ten years I had three relationships,” he starts, and Max rises an eyebrow questioningly but doesn’t interrupt. “After a few months of the end of Camp Campbell and of you being taken and all, Gwen and I started to date.”

“What?!” Max can’t help but react. Gwen seemed at least as annoyed by David as Max himself back at camp. David laughs at his reaction.

“Yeah, I know, super weird, right?” He shows some good humor as he speaks and slowly the two of them start to move and shift until they are leaning against one another. “We were very close at that time, really focused on searching for you and then we had to deal with a lot of shit due to the investigation on Mr. Campbell’s illegal activities. To sum up, we were lost in the middle of a lot of problems and we only had each other to count on and one thing leads to other… Well, we dated for about six months before we realized that it wasn’t working for either of us. We are still very good friends, we message each other daily and talk almost every week. Curiously, it was Gwen who took me to The Fruit Bowl the first time.”

“Curious, indeed. What the hell were you two doing there, anyway?”

“One of Gwen’s co-workers talked about the bar and she thought it would be a good idea to go there, I think the person didn’t specify the kind of bar it was…” David rubs his neck, a little flustered and Max snorts a small laugh before falling in silence so David could continue his story.

“Anyway, we broke up but continued to be friends. About one year after this I started to work as a photographer, taking pictures of touristic attractions and landscapes for tour guides. That is how I met Tony.”

“Is Tony a weird girl name or…?” Max trails off and David is surprised but how prudish he is being.

“No, Tony is a man. I didn’t imagine this would be a problem for you.”

Max leans away so he can look David in the eyes. “No problem at all, I was just surprised. When I was eleven I asked my mother to send me back to a camp - any camp, but Ron forbid her because he said camping was for _fags like that idiot at Lake Lilac_ ,” Max says so with a mocking voice that surprisingly brings a small smile to David’s face. “You did make an impression on him, I guess; he sometimes used you as an example of what would happen to me if I didn’t have a real man to bring me up.”

“Should I be honored?” David asks with a small eye roll that Max finds very endearing.

“I think not, anyway, I guess he wasn’t a real _real man_ because I’ve known I am bisexual since I was twelve or something.” Max shrugs. “I admit I always imagined you as a kind of asexual being, it is…” he looks around for a proper word, “ interesting to know the truth.”

David considers this for a moment but in the end, he resumes his narrative.

“So, Tony worked as an editor in a local guide and he loved nature and camping and we worked really well together. I invited him to go on a trip so he could write an article about the region to go with the photos I would take. And in this travel he admitted he had feelings for me,” David seems taken by some good nostalgia as he speaks, Max once again settles by his side, looking at their bare feet close together at the end of the bed.

“Did you know you are bi at that time?”

“No, I didn’t,” David says while shaking his head. “I was very surprised by his confession and, I am a little ashamed to admit, I was a bit uneasy for the rest of the trip. But eventually, I digested this information and started to analyze my own feelings and, well, we started dating about two weeks later.”

“Yoo-hoo” Max cheers softly, pumping his hand in the air. David laughs sweetly.

“Tony and I dated for two years, we were considering moving in together when he was transferred to Alaska.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, it was terrible. He worked for a public department and I think he got into a fight with a superior and they managed to have him transferred to as far away as possible.”

“And why didn’t you go with him?”

David hesitates, he looks at something by the computer on the other side of the room but the angle doesn’t allow Max to see what it is.

“Well, I couldn’t. I had my own work here, and I don’t think I would adapt to Alaska, I love this region, the nature, and weather and the people here. Unfortunately, I had to decline. We tried a long distance relationship but it didn’t work either so we broke up and just went on being friends too. In January he came here on vacation and we went out together, it was fun, but the feeling is gone.”

“Do you always make friends with your exes?” Max asks with a smirk.

“No, not with all of them,” David says in a much darker tone, his hand unconsciously wrapping around his scarred wrist. Max gently takes his hand on his own.

“Is this how it happened?”

“Yes,” David breathes deeply. “After Tony, I decided to focus on my work and personal life and projects. I moved to this house and my career as a photographer was solidifying, I was very happy. One day I went to a public library to rent some books and the librarian recognized my name from one of those tour guides. Her name was Cynthia and she didn’t like nature all that much but she loved photography and art and she was really cute.

“I started to frequent the library just to have an excuse to see her and one day she gave me her number, and we started to text and talk and I fell in love with her. I asked her out and she just laughed and said that if I had made her wait another week she would have asked me herself.” David snorts a little at the memory and so Max allows himself a small laugh of his own.

“We dated for three years and as we moved in together we found out she was pregnant,” Max quickly looks around for any signs of kids in the room but he sees no toys or pictures or silly drawings and he quickly jumps to a painful conclusion. He almost asks David to stop talking but David’s narrative seems to have gained momentum and he just keeps talking despite the tears already welling in his eyes. “She agreed that if the baby was a boy we would call him Max.”

At this point, the tears are falling, unbidden and Max doesn’t know what to do. He holds David’s hands tightly and brings David’s face to his shoulder so the other man can at least hide his tears. David cries in silence for a few moments before he gains enough breath to speak again.

“On the fifth month she had a big complication that caused a miscarriage, and I just… broke.”

Max puts an arm around him and starts to gently rock back and forth, hand rubbing circles on David’s tense shoulders.

“She left to make an exam at the hospital and when she returned she found me in the tub, already unconscious. Luckily her brother was with her and he got me and they took me to the hospital where they said that I was at the limit. If I had lost any more blood it would be impossible to save me.”

“Shhhh, stop David,” Max says soothingly. “It is okay, you survived, you are stronger now.”

The silence is broken by the soft sounds of David crying. Max’s own eyes are full of tears but he sheds them soundlessly, the tears getting lost on David’s hair as the younger man presses his face to his head in a hug.

“She said she couldn’t deal with the loss of the baby and with me at the same time,” David says after a long time. “I don’t blame her, I never did. She did nothing wrong and when she needed me I tried to bail in the worst possible way. She returned to her parent’s house and changed her telephone number and e-mail, she blocked her facebook page and just any other mean I would have of searching for her. I know this because her brother told me, I never tried to reach out to her because I know how much pain I caused her.”

“She was selfish,” Max says in a low voice, “ you needed her.”

“Don’t say this so carelessly, Max,” David says softly. “She needed to care and protect herself before looking for anyone else. I know my own pain after the miscarriage but I can’t even imagine hers, I can’t imagine what is it like to lose a son and almost lose a lover at the same time. I just wish her well, and if anything I’d like to apologize and say that I don’t have any ill feelings for her.”

“You’ve never talked to her again?”

“No, I didn’t,” David wipes his eyes on Max’s shoulder. “Gwen managed to contact her after a while just to tell her that I was recovering and that I was in therapy and taking medicine for my depression.”

“Losing the baby gave you depression?” Max asks cautiously.

“Gwen says I’ve always had depression, I just had an odd way of dealing with it.”

“I knew you couldn’t be so fucking happy all the time…” Max mutters and David actually laughs at this.

“Yeah, I guess you were right after all. My parents were always busy when I was a kid and whenever I was sad or down they would tell me I wasn’t trying hard enough to be happy, Gwen says those were my first depressive episodes. I just learned to bottle everything up and try really hard to be happy,” David sits up straight and looks at Max. There are tiny tears clinging to his eyelashes and David carefully reaches to wipe them away. “I think if I had started my treatment sooner lots of things would have been different, but there is no point in thinking about what if now.”

“I’d probably have liked you better if you weren’t a walking toothpaste advertisement,” Max says with a smirk.

“Oh, c’mon Max, you loved me.”

“I tried to crush your head with a rock. And lead a revolution against you!”

“But when I was breaking down you were there to help me, I remember the night we made a fire and sang together and you and I shared the staff of the leader of the Order of the Sparrow.”

“That was super racist, you know?”

David laughs, bright and light once again and Max’s own chest feels a lot lighter.

“Yes, it was! It was super racist and just very bad but I had fun.”

“I kinda had fun too,” Max says with a small shrug.

“We all did,” David affirms. “Thanks to you.”

David looks at Max with a smile that, despite being small, is so significant. It is not the exaggerated grin Max hated back at camp, nor the false smile people use when trying to convince Max to do something against his rules. It is a genuine smile and Max can’t help but reply in kind.

“I am glad I told you all this,” David says after a moment. “Only Gwen and my therapist know all of this, but I am glad you do too now.”

“Thank you for telling me this,” Max says, once again his hand finds David’s and squeeze. “I guess it is time for me to repay the favor.”


	7. Coffee and Recollection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max tells David about what happened after he was taken from Camp Campbell.
> 
>  
> 
> **DISCLAIMER**  
> On this chapter, Max and David discuss Max's condition as a stripper/sex worker and I did my best to make it a neutral situation. I don't want this fic to either glamourize nor demonize sex workers, I did some research but this is a difficult subject to touch and I truly hope I don't cause any discomfort here. Also, keep in mind that this story takes place in 2027, I took some liberties with this so it would be more fitting to the way I want to conduct this story. Thank you for your time, attention and support <3

“Thank you for telling me this,” Max says, once again his hand finds David’s and squeezes. “I guess it is time for me to repay the favor.”

David takes a sharp intake of breath. Talking about his own past has left him a bit shaken and he is sure Max’s story will be at least as painful. He had been waiting for this moment but now that it is here he isn’t sure he is ready.

“There is just one thing I need to ask before,” Max says averting his eyes. “David, I’m hungry. Can we have breakfast now?”

At these words, David’s vision is taken by the memory of the last morning they had spent at Camp Campbell. Those last precious minutes where everything had been good and he could see a silver lining on the entire situation. The last moment before his ten years long Calvary.

“We never finished those eggs,” David says mostly to himself.

“What?”

“The morning after Mr. Campbell’s arrest,” David explains. “You and me and Gwen prepared breakfast.”

“Eggs and bacon,” Max says, the memory so far away but suddenly within reach again.

“Gwen and I never finished that meal,” David says, eyes downcast. “We were so shocked by your step-father’s behavior, it took me too long to react so when we finally got to the car you were already far away. We went to Sleepy Peaks and back down the road until the car ran out of gas but it was futile…”

Max watches David for a long while. The older man is avoiding his stare as if ashamed or afraid, and his hand is slack on Max’s own.

“David, look at me.”

“I am so sorry, Max,” David says as he shakes his head and continues to stubbornly look away. “If I had acted faster we might’ve saved you.”

“David!” Max exclaims, forcefully catching David’s attention. Once David looks back at him the young man softens his stare. “It was not your fault. It never was. You did what you could, I trust this.”

David’s eyes itch terribly but Max is looking at him with such determination that David doesn’t find it in himself to cry. If Max can be strong so can David.

“Ron took us right past Sleepy Peaks that day, way up North before he took a secondary road back to the city. He was very good at keeping a low profile, I am not surprised you didn’t find us.”

“I tried very hard,” David murmurs softly.

“I know you did,” Max replies with a small smile. “David, when did you stop looking for me?”

David averts his eyes once again and takes a deep breath before answering meekly. _“I never did.”_

“What? David….” Max gapes and stares. “It has been ten years! Not even I waited for so long! You…” Suddenly Max is hit by a realization. He scoots closer to David and takes his face in his hands. When he speaks his voice is soft despite the turmoil inside him.

“David, why did you start to date Gwen?”

“Because she was involved in the end of Camp Campbell and in the search for you…”

“And please, be honest, why couldn’t you accept Tony’s invitation to move with him to Alaska?”

“Because there I wouldn’t have any chance of finding you…” David’s voice is quivering but he is bravely holding Max’s stare.

“And what would be the name of your son with Cynthia if she had carried the pregnancy to term?” Max’s own voice is shaken, his thumbs rubbing nervous patterns on David’s cheeks as he holds their eyes locked together.

“Max.” David says in a broken breath.

“David, you allowed this to consume you for too long! Your entire life was tainted by it. This has been eating you up for ten years and now there is only a little bit of you left. You were so full of life before but now you’re but a shell. I am very touched by this but I would never want you to lose your life to this! I don’t blame you and I never did and I never will, so if you want to continue seeing me I demand that you stop blaming yourself too.”

David’s already frayed nerves break once more and he starts to cry, earnest and heartfelt. Max’s heart breaks a little and he wants to hug David and comfort him but he won’t until David says what Max wants to listen.

“I just wished things have been different,” David says in broken gasps.

“I know, you dumbass,” Max says fondly. “I wish they were different on a daily basis but you said so yourself, there is no point in wasting time on what-ifs. If you want things to be different you have to change them from now on.”

David sobs quietly for some more time, but he doesn’t look away. Max keeps wiping his tears away until they eventually stop and David is silently hiccuping as he regains his breath.

“I can’t change the past,” he says carefully. “And no matter how much I wish it was out of my power to help you back then,” he adds and Max nods in agreement. “But if you allow me, I’d like to keep meeting you. Not because I feel bad for the last ten years, but because I want to know you now and make everything better now.”

Max releases his face and takes him into a tight embrace.

“I am sorry I was so terrible to you when I was a child,” Max says coyly. “I want to make everything better now, too.”

They stay there for a long while. Max keeps rubbing circles on David’s back while the older man just holds onto his waist firmly. The shadows move and shift as the sun keeps climbing higher and higher in the sky. When they pull away, David carefully takes Max’s hand and guides him downstairs and into the small kitchen at the back of the first floor.

David has only two chairs and a tiny table in the kitchen but it is enough for them. He sits Max down on one of the chairs and moves over to the sink where there is an apron on a hook.

“Do you drink coffee?”

“Yes, please,” Max replies as he looks around the kitchen curiously.

The place is functional, the sink doubles as a preparation counter and the stove and oven are inbuilt. There is a black fridge beside the sink and some plastic drawers full of fruit and vegetables on the other side. On the fridge, there is a magnetic notepad with a tiny purple pen, magnets depicting famous touristic attractions and a picture of David and Gwen in front of Camp Campbell’s mess hall.

“Can I ask you something, Max?” David asks as he measures the coffee and starts the machine.

“Sure.”

“I might be wrong, but on the morning your mother took you I was under the impression she was pregnant.”

“She was,” Max affirms and he is smiling when David looks back at him.

“So you have a little…”

“Sister.”

“Tell me about her!” David asks enthusiastically. “She might be ten now, isn’t she?”

“Her name is Hannah, and she is nine,” Max says. “She will be ten in three months.”

“Hannah, this is a beautiful name,” David says before he pauses and frowns. “Is Max your name, Max?”

“Maximilian,” Max replies. “But if you call me this I will kill you and then probably kill myself.”

“So I’ll make sure never to do this, Max,” David smiles at Max’s frown. “How is Hannah like?”

“She is amazing,” Max replies with pride. “She is beautiful and so intelligent; I would do anything for her.”

“She is lucky to have a good brother,” David adds. “Will you do something for her birthday?”

“I can’t,” Max deflates. “It is very difficult for me to see her, she lives and studies in a Catholic school for girls. I went through literal hell to enroll her there and the nuns kinda hate my guts.”

David frowns. “You enrolled her there?”

“Yes. When Hannah was two our mother died because of a bad case of pneumonia. Back at that time, we lived with her and Ron and when mom died Ron’s mother, Sylvia, moved in with us to help care for Hannah. She was an old hag but she loved Hannah and bore with me so it was liveable.”

The coffee machine beeps and David moves to fetch and serve two mugs of hot coffee. He places them on the table and offers a bowl of sugar to Max despite not using any on his own beverage. Max dumps four spoonfuls of sugar into his mug before continuing his story.

“When I turned thirteen Ron decided it was time for me to pay rent and so he put me to sell some shit he got from his friends on the street. I dropped out of school and started to work so he would allow me to live with Hannah in his house, after a while I decided it was too humiliating and ran away.”

Max fixes his stare on the swirling coffee in front of him. He isn’t used to sharing his story but he wants David to know. He feels this morning is supposed to offer some closure for the two of them.

“As I said before, Sylvia was kind of a bitch but she loved Hannah to pieces so I knew she would be okay. Sometimes when Ron was out I visited and Sylvia fed me and allowed me to use the shower and when I got sick she gave me medicine and Ron’s old jackets.”

“She sounds like a good person,” David comments quietly.

“She died two years ago,” Max continues. “And I was scared to leave Hannah alone with Ron, so I called a social worker to check on her and said I was her brother and wanted to raise her. The social worker agreed that Ron didn’t have conditions to raise her himself, but neither did I so she put Hannah in a foster home.”

“And how did Ron react?” David asks apprehensively. Max opens his mouth wide and shows a missing tooth by the back of the left side.

“He put me in a hospital, but joke’s on him because that put him in jail.”

David looks shocked but Max isn’t fazed by it anymore. The young man shrugs with indifference and takes a sip of overly sweet coffee before continuing.

“Hey, can I have one of those apples too?”Max points at the plastic drawers.

“Yes, sure!” David stands up and rushes to pick and wash some apples. “Would you like some toast too? I’m afraid I don’t have much, but there is butter too.”

“No, just the apples, please.”

David places the apples and a small cutting knife on a plate and gives it to Max. The young man plucks the stem of the apple and starts to cut it in irregular pieces that he tosses straight into his mouth.

“Anyway,” Max says after he swallows a mouthful of apple, “the foster home was nice but I wanted more for Hannah. I love her and I wanted to give her the chances I didn’t have so I had the social worker help me find the school and enroll her there.”

“You’ve become a very mature person, Max,” David says with an extremely fond smile. “What you’re doing for your sister is commendable.”

“It is not commendable,” Max retorts, “it is necessary. The school is expensive and since Ron is in prison I have to bank her living expenses as well, that’s why I am working at the bar.”

David drinks his coffee in pensive silence for a moment. He knows this is not his doing but he can’t help but feel proud of Max’s attitude towards his sister. David had always known that deep down the other man was caring but he is touched by everything he is doing for Hannah. He now understands why Max said that David would be helping him by buying drinks at The Fruit Bowl.

“I am truly impressed, Max,” he says after a while. “I suspected that your life had been full of adversities but as always you didn’t bow down; instead you grew into an amazing person whereas many would have given up.”

“People do what they need to,” Max says dismissively. David wants to argue but he lets go.

“May I ask you one more thing?”

“Mmhmm,” Max agrees with his cheeks puffed out, full of apple.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, I genuinely don’t see this as a problem, but, why did you get a job at a strip club? You are very intelligent, certainly, you’d be able to get a position in a better place?”

Max slowly chews his apple and cleans his mouth before answering. He studies David carefully while speaking.

“David, I appreciate how much you seem to appreciate me but face the facts,” Max says in a neutral voice. “I am an Indian guy with a handful of police records for pickpocketing and disturbance of peace and no high school diploma. No matter how intelligent I am, people just won’t give me a job. Believe it, I tried.”

David doesn’t know how to respond and an awkward silence falls over them. Max finishes eating one apple and cuts the second one in half. Taking a bite he shakes his head and shrugs once again.

“It was Christine, Strawberry Bonbon, who suggested the position. At first, I declined but once I realized my other options were far worse I took it and, honestly, it is not my dream job but I kinda like it now. The money is okay and Sid is actually a decent guy.”

“Sid?”

“The owner,” Max clarifies. “The house is legal and he pays accordingly. As I said, it is not the dream work but at least until Hannah enters high school or until something better shows up, I will continue working there.”

“I see,” David says, quietly, for lack of anything better to say. “I hope I didn’t offend you.”

“Not at all,” Max says with a half smile. “In two years you get used to this conversation. I know you didn’t mean to offend.”

“In what school does Hannah study, again?”

“Saint Martha School for Girls,” Max answers. “It is on the other side of the city, which is another reason why it is so difficult for me to see her.”

“It is a shame,” David comments.

“It is, but I call her every Tuesday night when the parents can visit their daughters.”

“And you can’t visit her because you are at work at night?”

“That and the nuns hate me, remember?”

“How could I forget?” David asks with a half smile that Max replies with a smile of his own.

“Because you have nothing inside your head,” Max teases. “And since we are on the topic of your head, why did you cut your hair? That cockatiel look suited you.”

David sputters and spills coffee.

“Excuse me? Cockatiel?” Max laughs at David’s indignant tone.

“Yeah, I kinda liked it back at camp. It bounced around when you walked.”

“Well, my haircut is very appropriate and stylish for someone my age.”

“I wasn’t aware you are in your sixties.”

They continue to bicker and tease one another until they finish breakfast. They fall into a pleasant conversation about favorite movies, books, and bands while washing the dishes and tidying up the kitchen.

“I better be going,” Max says when they finish cleaning up. “Christine is probably worried.”

“I’ll see you to the door,” David replies and guides Max back to the front door. Before he opens it he turns around to look at Max. “This morning was very emotional and I feel like it could’ve gone better but I had a good time with you. I would like to meet you again, out of the club. As… friends?”

Max smiles and rubs his neck, coyly.

“Well, I wouldn’t oppose to lunch someday.”

“Is Wednesday good?” David asks eagerly.

“Ah… yes, yes it is.”

“There is a dinner in front of the train station on 7th St,” David says. “It is new and I’ve been meaning to go there but I never find opportunity.”

“It seems like there is an opportunity on Wednesday at 12:30,” Max says. His heart decides to hammer wildly in his chest and he is sure his cheeks are pink.

“It seems so,” David agrees as he opens the door. “It is a date,” he says when Max is near the front gate. Max trips on thin air and almost falls but he recovers and quickly goes away with a shy glance back. When David closes the door he finally processes what he’d said.

A date!?

His pitiful moans are muffled by the sound of his heart trying to break free from his ribcage as he hides his burning face on the polished wood of the door.


	8. Overanalyzing and Overreacting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suddenly, Max has a lot of feelings he doesn't know how to deal with. Luckily, he has Christine to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sit down my friends because THE COOLEST THING just happened here: I received fanart for this story!!  
> sonoma89 drew [this beautiful piece of art](https://caringbears.deviantart.com/art/Fanart-for-the-greatest-fanfiction-ever-705540790) for me (for us!), complete with David being a silly potato and asking Max on a date, Max's bad boy outfit, and a precious and perfect Christine for all your Strawberry Bonbon needs!!

Max feels like his head is stuffed full of cotton. His senses are dulled as he walks down the street without destination. He needs to take a bus home but the neighborhood is unfamiliar and he doesn’t know where the nearest bus stop is. He should’ve asked David but it is too late and he is not returning to David’s house now.

Firstly because he might have become a mature person but he isn’t about to admit a mistake as fucking stupid as getting lost on the way home. And secondly, because he isn’t sure he can look David in the eye right now.

David asked him on a date, didn’t he? Max is sure he has heard the words but he isn’t sure of their meaning. It is David, and he can get over-enthusiastic Max knows that pretty well. But still, once you add all the things that happened in the morning and at the night before, it becomes difficult to deny that there is something going on. Max has never talked about Hannah so freely, and he is sure David isn’t very willing to share the reasons behind his suicide attempt with just anyone.

Something happened in the last few hours and Max is trying hard not to take the fact that he and David shared a bed into account. That would just make everything more difficult because it would remind Max of how good it was to hold David through the night. How comfortable his bed and his arms are, how soft and pretty he looks while sleeping...

Max! Focus!

The young man finally reaches an avenue and easily spots a bus stop a few blocks away. His eyes are downcast as he walks up to the stop where some people are already waiting. The sun is high in the sky, surely it is way past ten in the morning and considering his location it is likely that he will arrive home near lunchtime. He wishes he had his phone with him, but he had left the club in a hurry the night before and the telephone had been charging in the storage room and out of his reach.

It takes about ten minutes for the bus to arrive and Max is the last one to board it. He sits near the end, his feet up the seat and head leaning on the greasy glass. Luckily, the bus is almost empty and no one sits by his side or even pays him any attention. The muffled sound of the Saturday morning traffic lulls Max into a pensive state and, even against his better judgment, he soon is once again revisiting the last hours in his memories.

David had gone to The Fruit Bowl again, that adds to three times if Max is not mistaken. The first time had been terrible, Max hadn’t known how to react and David had been so shocked and awkward. After David left that night Max felt like he had lost him again and he felt the worst taste possible on the back of his throat at the thought.

He had been surprised when David showed up a few days later to watch the show. At least he supposes David had gone there for the show because he certainly didn’t stay to talk to Max. Ivan said he had looked like he was about to bust a nut, which now makes a little bit of sense but still sounds unlikely. Probably he was just too embarrassed to continue watching.

Ivan also said that David looked enamored of Max - Ivan is rarely wrong.

Last night David seemed happy to have an opportunity to just talk to Max. He didn’t seem off put or frustrated that the young man wasn’t going to perform. Quite the opposite, he seemed all too content with just sitting there sipping his drink and making small talk. And if Max can be honest, at least with himself, he was quite happy to have David there just chatting and entertaining him with silly questions and jokes.

If he considers the night before and the current morning as two different situations that make for four encounters with David in little less than two weeks. It is a lot of interaction, especially considering that they had gone ten years without seeing one another. This morning Max learned that he had been a constant in David’s life in those years despite his absence. He can’t say the same about himself: when Hannah was born he stopped trying to run away from home, and after about one year of the end of Camp Campbell Max gave up on David or Gwen or anyone coming after him.

He might be suffering from a David overdose after the longest withdraw period in history.

As an exercise of imagination Max tries to imagine what would it be like to not have David in his life again. What would be it like if he bailed on their lunch on Wednesday and David decided to go on with his life and they simply never met again? When Max imagines it the first feeling that overtakes his heart is emptiness. Max constantly feels empty but this is a type of emptiness that hurts and he has to shake his head forcefully to avoid tearing up.

Max’s approach to life had always been detached and cynical, he isn’t used to having so many feelings running wild inside him. His heart feels frayed and it is like all of his emotions have been scrubbed raw by this overanalyzing. The last time he had felt this emotionally drained was when Christine started her transition and Max was her only support.

When Max finally arrives home he is tired and restless, his thoughts and emotions in turmoil like they rarely are. He climbs the stairs slowly, dragging his feet up and leaning heavily on the handrail. Fortunately, his wallet and keys had been in his pocket when he left the club the night before so he doesn’t have problems getting inside home.

Max and Chris’s apartment is small but comfortable, they don’t have a lot in ways of decoration due to the lack of space but there are beautiful curtains on every window and all the rugs are soft and comfortable to walk on. There is only one bedroom, so the living room had been closed with drywall and turned into a bedroom for Max while Chris stays in the second room with her small sewing station and crafts materials. Max’s own room is a lot more spartan than hers; other than a few pictures on the dresser, the only personal item Max keeps is his dirty and beloved teddy bear. Mr. Honey Nuts is always sitting on Max’s pillow unless he is lost among the messed blankets.

Music comes from Christine’s room when Max enters the apartment, a sign that she is home. He steps out of his shoes before padding across the narrow makeshift corridor to her room. The door is open and she is sitting on the bed with a large sketchpad over her knees, she is sketching some sort of gown but stops as soon as she hears Max softly knocking on the door frame.

“Maxy!” Christine exclaims as she turns the music off. “I was starting to worry about you. I saw you left your phone at the bar but you should’ve called or messaged me to tell me you wouldn’t be home at night.”

“Sorry, Chris, I.. I didn’t have the opportunity,” he says tiredly. “What are you doing?”

“I got a commission for a costume,” she replies and Max nods with a nervous look on his face. Christine raises an eyebrow at him.

“Is everything alright, Max?”

“I don’t know?” Max says, looking around quite lost. “Do you have a moment?”

Christine looks at him from head to toe, her lips pursing as she sees something there that doesn’t please her.

“Is it a ‘Chris and Max figure things out together’ kind of moment?” She asks already closing the sketchpad and setting it aside.

“Yes,” Max says in a small voice.

Christine smiles and puts her arms out for him. Max quietly slides into her bed where he lays with his head on her bent knees. She starts to pet his hair as she patiently waits for him to say something. Her nails scrape pleasantly against his scalp, the soothing motion uncoiling his nerves and allowing him to relax. After some time he finally speaks.

“David asked me on a date,” he blurts at once, causing her to stop the soft petting for a moment.

“Is this good?”

“I don’t know,” he replies. “In fact, I don’t even know if it is a real date or not.”

“What did he say?”

“Well, he said he wanted to see me out of the club, as a friend,” Max says, hands nervously twisting together. “And then he invited me to have lunch on Wednesday.”

“And did you accept?” Christine continues to run her fingers through Max’s messy curls, gently untangling any knots she finds.

“Yes,” Max sounds unsure. “And when I accepted he said it was a date!”

Christine smiles gently at him.

“This is cute,” she says sweetly.

“I am very confused, Chris,” Max admits with a sad sigh.

“You knew this David guy before last night, right?” Christine asks with a tilt of her head.

“Yes. When I was a kid my mother sent me to a summer camp and he worked there,” Max explains. “But this was a long time ago, I’ve never expected to find him again.”

“And how do you feel about it?”

“I am not angry,” Max says in all seriousness and Christine laughs at it. “When I was a kid I didn’t like him because he was very obnoxious and cheery all the time, but now he is different. I am different, too.”

“And do you like him now?”

Max goes silent again. Isn’t it the million dollar question? He thinks it is still too early to say anything about it. He did enjoy being in David’s company the night before and that morning, but those few hours weren’t enough to draw a realistic conclusion, right? He turns around on the bed until he can look Christine in the eyes. She is looking at him with a benevolent but amused expression on her face and he frowned in reply.

“I like having him around,” he says slowly. “He is very… genuine and honest when talking to me and it makes me feel good. When we were at camp he was always trying to connect with me, but I never let him, now I think I want this connection.”

Christine hums in understanding and tucks a curl of hair behind Max’s ear. She has never seen Max being this open and earnest about his feelings. Over the years of their friendship she became very good at reading his subtle cues, but this all out conversation is something new and she can’t help but think this is David’s influence already working.

“Well, you’ve met him just a few days ago,” she says after some consideration. “It is normal to be confused especially considering you were away for so long.”

“This is a sound observation, Christine, but it doesn’t fucking help me!”

“Chill, Maximilian,” she chides him and Max pouts at her. “What I mean is that it is still early, you don’t need to have it figured out just yet.”

“No?” Max deflates and flops by her side again, his head resting on her knees once more.

“No, darling,” she repeats sweetly, her nails once again running over his scalp in soothing circles. “You accepted his invitation, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” he says quietly.

“Why?”

“Because… I… want to see him again?” Max’s answer sounds like a question and Christine shakes her head, amused at how hopeless her friend can be sometimes.

“I know you, Max, and if you didn’t want to see him again you would’ve never accepted his invitation. You don’t do things to please others, so this can only mean you do want to see him again.”

“I do,” he says, mostly to himself. “But, is it a date?”

“Well, I guess it could be?” She shrugs. “He called it a date, didn’t he?”

“Yes, but, David gets excited very easily, maybe he said it in the heat of the moment? Maybe it is not exactly what he meant?”

“Max, why are you trying so hard?” Christine asks softly.

“I just don’t want to fuck it up, Chris,” he says with painful sincerity. “You know how easy it is for me to screw everything and I don’t want to screw this.”

“You are not a screw-up, Max,” she squeezes his shoulder reassuringly as she speaks. “David asked you out, he said he wants to see you out of the club, this means he likes your company. I don’t know if he asked you on a date-date or a friend date or whatever, but he invited you to spend some time together and I think this is what you should focus on.”

“So, what do I do?”

“On Wednesday you get out of bed at a decent time, put on some nice clothes and go meet him,” she says with finality. “You’ll have a good time, eat some nice food, have some fun and hopefully by the end of the meal you’ll know what kind of date it was.”

“How do you make it all sound so simple?” He whines and rubs his face in frustration.

“I am a third party observer,” she deadpans. “The point is, both of you want to see each other and now this is enough. In the worst case scenario, you’ll have a friend who isn’t me!”

“Aren’t you a sweetheart?” Max mumbles and Chris smiles down at him.

“David sounds like a very special guy,” she says after a moment.

“He is,” Max says without hesitation.

“He is hot, too,” Christine says causing Max to sputter and sit up with a deep blush on his cheeks.

“Christine!!”

“I just had a quick look yesterday at the club but he seemed very cute,” she teases and Max just emits a long sequence of incoherent sounds. “It will be fine, Max,” she says once Max stops his nervous grumbling.

“Thank you, Chris,” he says with a tiny smile. “I love you.”

Chris smiles back at him as they hug tightly. “I love you too, Maxy.”

**

On Monday morning Christine goes out to buy material to work on some projects. She leaves around nine and leaves Max a note taped to the bathroom mirror since the young man is fast asleep when she leaves. Tending to the bar is a surprisingly exhausting work and Ivan still can’t carry the heavy crates and boxes of bottles around so Max is still substituting him at the bar. Sunday had been a very busy night and Max had arrived home with the sun, so Christine decided to let him sleep as much as he wanted that morning.

Max wakes up a little before eleven with his bladder uncomfortably full. He yawns all the way to the bathroom and then back to his room again. Once he returns to his room he lays down on the bed intending on sleeping some more but he finds himself too waken to go back to sleep. With a sigh, he picks his phone from the bedside table and starts to read an e-book Ivan had suggested him.

The book is badly written despite the interesting concept. It is a murder thriller but the characters are flat and uninteresting and soon Max finds himself drifting away from the reading and into his own musings. According to Christine’s note on the mirror, she had gone downtown to buy fabric and would be back by lunchtime which means he had one hour or so for himself.

Max closes the book and when he does so the cell phone returns to its initial page. The background in a picture of Max drawn by Hannah and he smiles a little everytime he sees it. On the corner of the screen, the icon of the calendar catches his attention - there is a red bubble over it signaling that he has an event scheduled for the week. Max takes a deep breath when he remembers the event he saved for Wednesday.

Lunch with David.

He hadn’t seen David since that awkward farewell on Saturday morning and he notices that he kinda misses him. Unbelievable - he goes one decade without the man and everything is fine, and now he misses him after barely two days! Max wonders if he should call or text David on the days they don’t see each other. David had given him his card that first day, after all. Surely it meant David expected him to keep some sort of contact, right? Max would like to keep in touch with David but he just doesn’t know what they could chat about on the phone. He groans in frustration.

Max tugs his hair in an attempt to focus but the effect is quite the opposite. Instead of focusing on a decent topic of conversation to initiate contact with David, Max’s mind is suddenly filled with thoughts of David - of his sleeping face and his smile, of his long legs and the little skip he still has to his step.

Of his warmth and the pleasant smell of his hair as he hugged Max through the night on Saturday.

Max groans, but now it is not only frustration he feels. His cheeks blush when he realizes his cock is filling up quickly, surely the vestiges of his morning wood are helping the matters on his lower parts. When he looks down there is a tent growing in his boxers and at this point, he knows he can’t just will it away. No, he will have to deal with the situation in a more practical manner.

He is slightly ashamed of how easy it is for him to imagine David there with him. He might be still debating over his feelings for the guy but it is difficult to deny how attractive David is. Or how simple it is for Max to visualize his blushing cheeks, with his eyes glazed and lips shiny and too red. Max gasps a little as his cock twitches and the sensitive head rubs against the fabric of his shorts.

With an impatient tug he removes the boxers and lays naked on the bed, the covers kicked aside unceremoniously. The morning is hot and Max’s room is stifling since it doesn’t have a window, sweat soon starts to glisten on his skin causing his hands to slide effortlessly up and down his body. He has some time to spare and decides to make this last; as it is rare for him to have pleasure by and for himself these days. Max doesn’t mind doing what his clients ask him, as long as it is within the rules, but it is good to chase his own enjoyment for a change.

He plants his feet on the bed and gets comfortable as he uses one hand to tug his hair and the other to graze down his chest forcefully, raising red lines that sting a little. His breathing is already shallow, his lips dry as he sucks air in through his mouth. He loves to feel the blood rushing just under his skin, and he runs eager hands up and down his neck and chest chasing that feeling. He teases a nipple with a short nail and moans openly at the tingle it creates.

His eyes slip closed and he sees David’s image with much more definition now. His bed isn’t as soft as David’s and his hands aren’t as big but with some imagination, he can pretend he is still in David’s house with the older man exploring him in an unhurried fashion. He is sure that David is an attentive lover, and basks on the idea of being doted on by him.

In his imagination, David is kissing his everything: his cheeks, jaw and neck, the hollow of his collarbones and the ridges of his ribs as they show when Max stretches on the bed. David kisses his lips, sweet but demanding at once and Max swallows forcefully at this particular thought. Max wonders if David is the type of person who speaks a lot during sex. Somehow he is sure he is. Usually, Max isn’t a big fan of dirty talking or speaking during sex but he imagines that David would say the sweetest and most ridiculous things in this situation and he finds it endearing to no end.

Finally, he brings a hand down around his cock. It is pulsating to the rhythm of Max’s wild heartbeat, and he groans in delight as he starts to pump it. The mix of sweat and precum make the slide easy, with just enough friction to keep Max on the edge. His toes curl on the bed sheets as he rubs the head and his nail catches on the leaking slit.

His hand gains speed and his hips start to thrust up forcefully. He is grunting and gasping in pleasure, his face unguarded and expressive as he usually doesn’t allow it to be. David would certainly be a very expressive lover, and he would appreciate it from Max as well. The young man pictures slack lips and half hooded dark green eyes, a mess of auburn hair slicked with sweat over eyebrows angled down helplessly. David wears his heart on his sleeve, Max would be able to read and play him so well.

They would bring so much pleasure to each other…

Max’s rhythm starts to fail as he approaches orgasm. He trashes and tosses on the bed, tugging his own hair and grinding down on his tight fist. His voice is muffled by the pillow when he comes, face mashed against the hot pillowcase. In his mind, he can almost hear David gasping his name in a raspy voice.

Coming down from his high takes a long time. Max enjoys every second of this slow descent; his heartbeat assuming a normal rhythm, his breathing becoming deep and regular once more. When it is over he is satisfied and light in a way he can’t quite remember being in the recent past.

Eventually, he stands up, come plastered to his belly and thighs, and moves to the bathroom to shower. The hot water is working just fine, which is ironic considering that Max would prefer a cold shower right now. He doesn’t mind too much, though. He calmly washes his body and hair - he notices that his undercut has grown quite a lot and makes a note to ask Christine to shave it for him later. He steps out of the shower with a towel around his hips and another one on his hair.

He is finishing dressing when he hears the door opening and clicking closed once again. Max can hear the heavy rustling of Christine’s shopping bags as she walks down the corridor and closer to the door of his room. She is, in fact, loaded with three big plastic bags stuffed full of fabric and small pieces for her commission. He greets her when she passes by.

“Max!” She exclaims, looking far more excited than Max expected her to. “If you don’t fall in love with David soon, I will!”


	9. Fabric and Fries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am the happiest author on this site, I swear to god!
> 
> Ange-Lyne gifted me with this [super hot art of Caramel Thunder ](https://angelnor101.deviantart.com/art/Caramel-Thunder-UPDATED-FINSIHED-705727369?ga_submit_new=10%3A1506339562&ga_type=edit&ga_changes=1) power sliding into our hearts!
> 
> Also, I'm sorry this chapter took so long but work decided to kill me these last days and I had no time/energy to write during the week.  
> Thank you all for your patience and support, I hope you enjoy the chapter!

There are many things David doesn’t know and in general he likes it, the unknown gives a taste of adventure to ordinary life. He is now staring in awe at endless yards of fabric on a store and he is filled not with a sense of wonder, but of dismay. He would have never guessed just how many different types of fabric exist in a simple street shop: velour, cotton, nylon, satin, there is even something called Coolmax. David snorts. Cool Max.

Yet, it doesn’t matter how interesting the wide variety is, it is a problem right now because David has absolutely no idea of what he needs. He had decided to create a small studio at his house and found online that fabric is a good and cheap way of creating backgrounds. After some consideration he decided he needed white and black fabric for plain backdrops, and also a bright green or blue so he could easily cut the objects on Photoshop.

Some pretty fabrics would be good too, David would be able to use them as details on his compositions, wrap around objects to add interest or give to models to use as props. David has little experience photographing people but he would like to practice more, it would be good for his career too since there are just so many tourism magazines and guides around requiring pictures of the regional attractions.

David has never foreseen that his plans for his career would be stopped by dozens upon dozens of spools of unknown fabric. He wishes he had paid attention to the article online, surely there were some tips as to what kind of fabric to use. But, here he is, with zero knowledge on the subject and zero battery on his cellphone for a quick google search. He vaguely feels like crying.

He doesn’t want to be a difficult client and annoy the saleswoman with questions or insecurities, but he also doesn’t want to make a bad deal. He is fretting on his spot, the handle of his shopping basket slick with perspiration. He is so focused on his situation that he doesn’t pay attention to the person beside him at the counter.

However, it doesn’t mean that said person isn’t paying attention to him. Unbeknown to him, a pair of dark eyes is carefully studying him from behind pale pink eyelashes and arched eyebrows. The person stares for a good full minute before gently poking him on the arm.

“You are David, aren’t you?”

David jumps a little on his spot as he turns to face the pink haired stranger who is staring at him while casually sipping on Starbucks coffee through a straw. The woman is short, chubby, and familiar but David has some difficulty to recognize where he knows her from. It takes some time but eventually, he speaks.

“Strawberry Bonbon?” He asks in lieu of answering to her question. She smiles.

“The name’s Christine,” she says offering her hand. David shakes it firmly.

“Nice to meet you, Christine, I’m David.”

“Yeah, I know,” she grins, her eyes twinkling. “How are you after that fall on Friday?”

David blushes profusely as he remembers his failed attempt at pole dancing.

“I am fine, thank you. I guess only my ego was bruised.”

“Poor thing,” she says with a sympathetic smile. “If it is any consolation before you fell you were doing quite fine.”

“It is not, but thanks,” he smiles disheartened. “It was a big embarrassment, I hope it didn’t cause you any problems.”

She dismisses his preoccupations with a wave of her small hand. “Don’t sweat it, our biggest concern was you. Luckily, Max could help you home that night.”

David doesn’t know Christine, so it is impossible for him to judge if there was any malice in her line. It might as well be but she said so with a genuine looking smile that just confused him.

“Yes, it was luck.” David hesitates for a moment before adding: “Do you happen to know anything about fabric?”

Christine laughs a little. “Do you need help?”

David rubs the back of his neck and nods an affirmative. Much to his surprise Christine’s face light up in a smile and she takes a step closer to him.

“You truly are a lucky guy, David. I happen to be a very crafty seamstress and now I am your personal fabric consultant.”

David is flooded with relief. Christine would surely know what he needs and she seems very willing to help him so he won’t feel bad asking her a ton of probably silly questions. She takes a long sip of her coffee and the straw makes a rumbling noise as the liquid ends. With a flicker of her wrist, she tosses the empty cup on a trash can and turns her full attention at David.

“So, what do you need?”

“Well, I have an empty space in my house and I want to turn it into a studio,” he explains in detail. “I am a photographer.”

“Wow, that is very cool,” she says with a whistle. “You look like a very traditional guy, I had assumed you were an accountant or some kind of blue collar.”

“I wouldn’t be able to work in an office,” he says sheepishly. “Closed spaces and routine are not really my favorite things.”

“Max did say you worked at a camp or something,” she comments lightly. David is surprised that Max talked about him with her.

“Yeah, camp counselor for many years. In fact I started to work as a photographer taking pictures for tourism guides but now I want to start working in other areas and I need a versatile studio. I saw online that fabric is good to create backgrounds.”

Christine nods, a pensive expression on her face. “Yes, I see. Fabric is cheaper than painting the wall, and you can have many different colors and textures in a small space. You’ll need a tight weaved fabric to create a solid color, but it needs to be easy to iron too. I think muslin or percale would be good, but we need a matte finish because gloss would reflect the light and ruin the picture.”

David stares at her with a comic confused expression on his face. “Could you repeat that, please?”

Christine giggles softly and hooks her arm around David’s. For such a small person she has a lot of presence and David is easily dragged around the store by her. They stop in front of a tall shelf heavy with spools of solid colored fabric.

“See, this is muslin,” she unwraps a few inches of the fabric to show him the texture. “It is a good option because the weave is tight which means it will cover the color of the wall behind it well. And as you can see it doesn’t reflect light very much so there won’t be much lens flare.”

David touches the piece of fabric. It may be the influence of Christine’s explanation but he feels the weave and the matte finish in a way he never had before. It does feel appropriate for what he wants, and there is a big variety of color as well.

“How big is your studio?” Christine asks, tilting her head slightly.

“Oh, it is small, I don’t even know if I should call it a studio yet,” David replies, a little blush rising on his cheeks. Christine finds it endearing. “It is just a few feet of unused space behind my computer desk.”

She nods and continues walking down the aisle, occasionally stopping to check on some spools. “You’ll need tacks and tape, maybe some velcro to keep the fabric tight against the wall, otherwise it might become too wrinkly.”

“It makes sense, good thinking” David rushes after her. “Can I buy those here?”

“Yeah, they have everything in this store, I’ll show you the other department when we finish choosing the fabric.”

They go around shelves and counters and Christine happily dumps info about fabric and sewing and crafts in general on David, who is all too happy to receive such knowledge. She is fun, sweet, and tends to get over excited with the object of her interests which is actually cute. David can’t help but like her, and he feels an odd sense of gratitude to know that she is Max’s friend.

“So, don’t you need to buy fabric yourself, too?” David asks after Christine finishes explaining the difference between satin and silk.

“Yeah, I do!” Christine exclaims and it is clear that she was so involved with David’s situation that she had forgotten her own purchase.

“Well, you know first hand just how bad I am at fabric shopping but I would love to accompany you while you choose what you need.”

“Are you sure?” Christine asks with an ironic edge to her voice as she reaches into her pocket for a very long purchase list. David recognizes some of the names on the list, but there are many that he has only the vaguest notion about.

“What is this? And this?” David goes on asking and pointing at the list. “What are you going to do with all of these?”

Christine smiles as she tells him she is a seamstress and has a big commission to make costumes for a theatre company. David congratulates her excitedly as they go back to the front of the store and Christine starts to show and explain to David all the items on her list. It is a very long list and David is constantly impressed with Christine’s knowledge on the subject. He is enjoying the class but he knows he will never absorb that much information so fast. He keeps asking, though, and complimenting her on her passion and experience.

At some point, he helps her choose some colors and patterns, and that makes him very happy. She says that on the theatre they sometimes put organza in front of the lights to tint it a little and David agrees to buy some colored organza too. She also convinces him of buying some lengths of lace.

“Because it is cute,” she says and he can’t say no to that.

Their shopping baskets have been replaced by shopping charts by the middle of the morning, and when they are forced to put everything on bags to take home they realize just how much they have bought.

“And I thought it would be easy, quick and painless,” David groans as he adjusts the bags on the crook of his arm.

“Was it painful?” Christine asks, a bit concerned that she had gone too overboard, but David dismisses her worries with a smile.

“It is now. These bags are heavy!”

“Yeah, they are,” she agrees, looking down at her loaded arms. “It will be a fucking pain to take all of this home by bus too.”

“You taking the bus?”

“Yes. I have a motorcycle but I knew I would buy a lot of stuff and it would be difficult to carry everything on it by myself,” Christine explains. “And since Max was sleeping when I left I decided to come by bus.”

“Oh, you and Max live together, right?”

“Yes, have been for some years. Normally he helps me when I come here to buy material but, as I said, he was exhausted yesterday and, as a graceful roommate, I let him sleep.”

“You truly are a graceful roommate,” David says with a smile. “Well, I guess I am not the only lucky person here, Christine. Usually, I come downtown by taxi but today I am looking after the necessary material to make my studio so I borrowed a friend’s car. It would be my pleasure to give you a ride, as a thank you for all the patience you had with me this morning.”

“Are you sure? It won’t be so bad to take the bus, I was being dramatic,” she raises her hands in a placating manner. “You don’t need to go through this trouble.”

“Oh, please, it won’t be trouble at all,” David insists. Christine seems about to argument and he takes a deep, steadying breath before continuing. “Your help was priceless this morning and only for this I would own you at least a ride home, but, in fact, I would like the opportunity to know you better.”

Christine looks at him with a confused expression. There is a deep blush rising on David’s face and he looks around embarrassed for a while before meeting her eyes again.

“You are important on Max’s life, you take care of him and is his friend,” he says softly. “I… like him a lot and I’d love to know you better, too. I completely understand it if you don’t want me to take you home, I am a stranger after all, but if you don’t then please at least allow me to ask an uber for you. I won’t even see the address if this is the problem.”

Christine studies him for a moment. It is very clear to her why Max likes David: he is sweet and willing to help and learn, he is polite and, most importantly, he sees both Max and Christine as real, actual people. Years working at The Fruit Bowl got them used to be treated as objects, as a means to an end. No matter how nice the clients are or how cheerful the audience is, for them there is no Christine and Max, only Strawberry Bonbon and Caramel Thunder. But, for David, there is a cheerful seamstress with too much passion for theatre and performing, and a man he deeply cares for and desperately wants to connect with. Christine’s heart fills with a soft feeling at the thought.

“Where is the car, David?” She asks with a smile and is pleased with the tiny, happy, squeak sound he makes before guiding her around the block to the parking lot.

 

***

 

Max had never gone through a fashion crisis before, but it seems like the proverbial first time has finally arrived. He doesn’t have much when it comes to clothes, the small dresser in his bedroom has only three drawers and is more than enough for all the pieces he has.

Usually, he just doesn’t give a damn for what he wears. Nobody cares for what he uses during the day when he goes to the grocery store and at work they provide specific outfits depending on what he is doing. On the rare occasion he has to worry about what to wear Christine is there to help him sort through the half dozen options on his dresser but when he needs her the most, she is not there. Typical.

The young man groans pitifully as he stares the clothes strewn over his bed. He is already wearing his favorite dark jeans but he doesn’t know what to wear on top of that. David hasn’t told him the name of the restaurant they are going to, so Max can’t know for sure how classy the place is. According to David it is a diner restaurant, and those are usually very casual - Max is betting on it.

After too much deliberation he chooses a pale yellow t-shirt and a green hoodie that, according to Christine, compliments his eyes whatever that means. When he is finally dressed it is almost time to leave for the restaurant. His mouth is full of toothpaste when his phone rings, it is from The Fruit Bowl. Max rolls his eyes.

“Hello, Caramel.”

“Spit it, Ivan,” he replies around the brush still stuck in his mouth.

“Always so bitter, boy,” Ivan sighs and Max can practically see him shaking his head. “Well, we’ve received a call now, you’ve been required as an escort for the evening.”

Max spits the foam on the sink and glares at it as he speaks. “Are you serious? Can’t you send someone else? I have a… thing this afternoon.”

Ivan makes silence for a second, probably trying to weight the implications of Max’s words.

“In fact, the client has been very specific, Max. It must be you.”

Max groans. “Who is this douchebag?”

“Does it make any difference if you know who is it?” Ivan questions and Max sighs, defeated. “I’ll text the details, he paid for the entire evening so you don’t need to come to the bar tonight,” Ivan tells in a business-like manner. “You are to meet him at three, don’t be late.”

Max turns off with no further words. He was planning to spend more time with David that afternoon but this client has messed with his plans royally. It is not rare for The Fruit Bowl to receive requests for escorts, and this is not the first time Max has to go somewhere else to meet a client but it has never been this inconvenient. He groans as he finishes brushing his teeth.

Ivan sends the details quickly and Max doesn’t recognize the address, meaning this is a new client or at least a new place. The restaurant he is meeting David at is downtown and Max believes a taxi would take about twenty to thirty minutes to take him to the address on the message. If he is fast and efficient about it, he can stay with David until about 2:30 pm - less than he expected but still good. Max sets an alarm on his phone and goes downstairs take the bus to his date.

According to David, the restaurant is in front of the train station on 7th Street. When he invited Max to the date both were a little emotionally drained and messy and “diner in front of the train station on 7th Street” seemed like a good enough description of the place. Turns out it isn’t. According to Google, there are five train stations on 7th Street and Max doesn’t know any of them.

The bus leaves him near the first station and he is trying his best to be optimistic as he walks the few blocks in a quick step. It is a little before noon when he arrives at the station. He looks around carefully, looking for a diner restaurant but only an old Chinese place is in sight. He asks a group of school kids if they know about the restaurant but none is able to help him.

 _Moving to the next station_ , he thinks in annoyance. The stations are but a few blocks away from one another, but the heavy traffic of people make the walk between them quite hard. If Max knew the exact location of the restaurant he would be able to take the train and go to the right station, but, since he doesn’t it would be too expensive to pay so many tickets.

When he arrives at the second station it is already 12:20. No restaurant. Max groans loudly in frustration. It took him more than 20  minutes to go from one station to the next, he curses as he realizes that if the restaurant is not at the next station he will surely be late. He takes a deep breath and breaks into a light run down the street.

Station number 3 is the biggest, so Max is confident that this is probably the right place. The distance between stations two and three is a lot bigger than the distance between the first two stations, and it is 12:55 when Max finally arrives there. He is panting, his breathing wheezing past his nose and mouth. There is some sweat on his brow and back and his feet hurt a little but any traces of bad humor die when he sees the vintage looking sign on top of the building across the street.

The restaurant has invested a lot in the nostalgia of the public: the sign is red neon, the decoration is composed of old jukeboxes and coca-cola bottles, the floor is black and white checkers. The smell of food is good and seems to emanate from the open front door, Max is still little ways away when he starts to feel it. It smells delicious. There are many people in the restaurant, some are groups of friends, some are families, some are lonely people eating at the counter.

And one is a dejected looking man sitting by the corner and staring at the melting glass on his cup of coke.

Max waves when he spots David gloomily sitting by the window. It takes a moment but when David’s eyes meet Max’s it is like a light going on. David’s smile blooms, wide and honest, across his face and Max’s chest feels tight but warm when he sees him.

“You came!” David says happily when Max sits in front of him.

“Of course I did,” Max says casually. “I said I would, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but, you didn’t get in touch to confirm,” David rubs his neck nervously. “And you were late, I was afraid you had given up or forgotten.”

“Well, I was late because you didn’t fucking give me the right address,” Max pouts and David looks embarrassed. “Did you know there are five train stations on this street?”

“Really? I didn’t know, I am sorry. If you had called I’d have given you the complete address.”

“I didn’t have your number,” Max lies, hoping that David would have forgotten the card he gave Max on their first encounter.

Their argument is cut by a waitress who shows up with a plastic smile and two menus. She asks David if he’d like another coke and he accepts, Max asks one for himself as well and she leaves to take their drinks while they chose the food.

“I’ve never been here, but I was looking at the other people’s food,” David says as he and Max study the menu.

“Stalker,” Max mutters in jest, causing David to blush a bright scarlet.

“I am not a stalker,” he pouts and frowns. “I just wanted to check the options, the pictures on the menu can be quite deceiving.”

Max snorts at David’s defensive behavior. He had forgotten how fun it is to rile him up, and that was one of his favorite activities at Camp Campbell all those years ago. Surely, 10-year-old Max liked doing so for the simple pleasure of making David a little miserable; but 20-year-old Max actually enjoys how cute flustered David is. His pale cheeks blush so easily, and the way he quickly averts his eyes is endearing.

“Ok, and did you get to any conclusion after all your stalking?”

David makes a tiny, indignant noise, but he shows Max the best options anyway. Shortly after the waitress brings their drinks and takes their order, David chooses a classic cheeseburger and Max asks for a bacon burger.

“How is Christine?” David asks when the waitress leaves.

“Oh, you guys met at the fabric store this week, right?” Max takes a sip of his coke.

“She saved my life,” David says seriously and Max can’t help a little laugh.

“And you repaid by giving her a ride, truly thankful.”

“Well, she wouldn’t need a ride if you were there to help her with her purchase,” David chastises Max. “You shouldn’t be sleeping so late on a Monday. Unless you had worked a lot on Sunday, then you have the right to sleep because it is very important to have eight hours of sleep every night. If you were caring about your sleep cycle, then…”

He is cut off by Max’s booming laughter.

“Oh my god David, you hadn’t changed a thing! You still can’t scold a guy without complimenting him at the same time,” Max laughs gleefully, his smile enough to prevent David from feeling bad at being laughed at.

“You still didn’t say how is Christine,” David says meekly after Max’s laughter subsides.

“She is fine, her sewing machine was acting up this morning so she is taking it to repair.”

“Oh, I hope it is not serious,” David chews his lips a little. “Tell her I said hi.”

“I will.”

They slip into an awkward silence that is broken when the TV on the corner of the diner shows the trailer for an upcoming movie. Both Max and David like the franchise and suddenly conversation is very easy. They comment on favorite characters and scenes, and David prattles on about the use of color and composition on the dramatic moments, while Max talks about the stunts and choreography of the action sequences.

After this, they jump from one topic to the next with ease. David tells about places he has photographed and Max talks about Hannah and Christine. The emotional tension of Saturday morning isn’t present and they are finally able to have a conversation as friends.

Friends who are constantly staring at each other’s lips while they suck on their straws, and whose feet are too close under the table; but friends nonetheless. The restaurant is full but they hardly pay any attention to anything other than the other, so much so that they both jump a little when the waitress finally returns with their food.

“Sorry about the delay,” she says with no inflection. “The restaurant is full and we’re understaffed.”

They assure her that it is no problem and she leaves in resigned silence.

“She could use some vacations,” David observes as the woman approaches another table to take their order.

“Or they should hire more people,” Max says with a shrug. “If someone is on medical leave or late it is okay, but a place like this shouldn’t be understaffed.” David nods but doesn’t say anything because his mouth is full of cheeseburger.

The rhythm of the conversation slows now as they eat. Even if they make small comments and observations between bites, most of the meal is silent. But the silence is comfortable now, the tension dissolved and their moods heightened by good food and good company. Their eyes constantly meet over their food and when it happens they share small, coy smiles. Max is grateful for his darker complexion because he is sure his cheeks would be cherry red otherwise.

Half of Max’s bacon burger is on his plate when his phone rings. David raises an eyebrow as the young man groans and takes it from the pocket of his hoodie, a little bell ringing on the screen.

“Oh, fuck,” Max’s humor sour a little as he hits the off button on the alarm. “I’m sorry, David, but I need to go.”

David swallows his mouthful of food and opens his mouth to talk but Max just continues speaking.

“I am sorry I was late, if I had just called you it wouldn’t have happened. I was afraid I would bother you if I called so I didn’t save your number but now I wish I had because then I’d have spent some more time with you.”

“Well, you are going to spend some more time with me,” David says smiling and if Max didn’t really need the money this escort work would give he would call Ivan at that moment to cancel it in order to see David’s smile the rest of the afternoon.

“Yeah, another day, maybe,” Max tries his best to sound nonchalant. “But right now I must go, I have a client.”

“Yes, I know.” David says with simplicity, he takes another sip of his coke while Max just frowns in confusion. “I am the client.”


	10. Lace and Skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're here since the beginning of this journey, rejoice! This is what we've been waiting for.
> 
> Also, I've renamed the chapters of this fic because they were bothering me and I liked the idea of using "noun and noun" as a pattern, bear with me, please xD

“The fuck, David?” Max’s eyebrows furrow down as he watches David scratching his cheek, embarrassed. “Are you serious?”

“Well, yeah,” David is looking down at his hands as they clutch the coke cup nervously. “I mean, I thought you knew?”

“Why would I know it?”

“I had to give all my info when I hired you,” David says, finally making eye contact again. He looks surprised by Max’s reaction. “I was under the impression that you would be given this info.”

If Max really focuses on it he can hear Ivan laughing at his expense in the distance. Max is going to sprain the fucker’s ankle with his bare hands once he returns to The Fruit Bowl. So much stress could’ve been avoided if only he had told Max who was his client. Or wouldn’t it?

“I wasn’t told,” Max says and this time he is the one looking away.

The fluid and natural atmosphere of their conversation is completely lost. Both men sit in tense silence, David looking down at their food, Max staring at his own reflection on the window. A sour taste forms on the back of Max’s throat.

“Sorry, I should have told you myself,” David pokes his hamburger, suddenly not hungry anymore.

“David?” Max calls softly, he looks at David’s reflection instead of looking at the man himself.

“Yes, Max?”

“I thought you wanted to meet me as a friend,” Max tries not to sound hurt.

“I do, Max, I do want to meet you as a friend.” David’s hands gently lay on top of Max’s on the center of the table. The young man looks up at last and David’s expression is a mix of apologetic and embarrassed. “I am sorry I caused a commotion, I just figured it would be a good way to help you.”

Max stares at their joined hands for a long while. David’s expression is so earnest and open right now that he can’t handle looking at him.

“Help me?” Max opts for a diplomatic route and forces David to continue talking while his thoughts and feelings run miles inside his head.

“Yes, I actually have a _mean_ second intention in doing so,” David says and he emphasizes the words in a way that Max knows for sure that his intentions are probably not mean at all. “I have put up a small studio in my house and I want to try it with a living model, and I really want it to be you.”

Max finally looks up at him. David is blushing fiercely, the color of his face mingling with his auburn hair. His lips are set in a tight line, and Max has the inkling that he would babble or cry if he let them any looser.

“You want me to model for you?”

“Yes,” David says all too fast. He clears his throat. “Yes, I would love it if you accepted to be my model today. I didn’t know how long a photo shoot like this can take, so I thought it would be good to have you all evening.”

“And you thought hiring me as an escort was the best option?” Max frowns but his expression is still somewhat soft. “You know I have free days and shit like this, right?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want you to waste a free day helping me,” David explains as he rubs his neck self-consciously. “It’s probably going to be very boring for you and you probably have better things to do with your time. So, I realized that I could hire you and then it wouldn’t be a problem!”

The logic is so simplistic, so absurd, so David that Max ends up laughing a little as he rolls his eyes hard.

“You are unbelievable, David,” he says fondly. “Haven’t you heard of asking a favor to a friend?”

“Well, it bugs me a lot when people want me to photograph things for them for free just because we are friends,” David explains with a little shrug. “I am their friend but it is my work after all, and since your work requires a lot of your time I figured it would be fair to hire you the same way I expect Gwen to hire me every time there is an event at the clinic.”

“Gwen works at a clinic?” Max asks, interest piqued by this piece of information.

“Oh, yes,” David answers with a big smile. “She is working as a therapist in a clinic, her specialization is the treatment of children with abusive backgrounds.”

There is a heavy weight to David’s words. Max had seen how much his situation had affected David during these ten years, it seems stupid now not to consider the same for Gwen. He feels a strange sense of gratitude.

“She did have a psychology major, after all,” Max says with a smile.

“And liberal arts,” David complements with a firm nod of his head.

“Have you told her about me?”

“No,” David says seriously. “Can I?”

“Not yet,” Max averts his eyes. “I mean, I am comfortable with you but I don’t know how she would handle my current situation. I think she wouldn’t be as respectful or open as you.”

David smiles at him. “I think she would understand and respect you, but I understand your hesitation. I won’t tell her until you allow me to.”

Most of the tension has already lifted when Max realized their hands are still joined at the center of the table. He likes the touch of David’s warm and lightly callused hands, it is oddly grounding to have them gently holding his own.

“So, if you are my patron for the evening, does that mean you are paying for the lunch?”

David laughs and Max is a little disappointed when he removes his hands from Max’s in order to grab his hamburger. “I guess it does, yes. If you are a nice boy I’ll even buy you dessert!” Max stares blankly for a second.

“I don’t think you realize the implications of what you just said,” he says, equal parts distressed and amused. The way David quirks his eyebrow and tilts his head aside are clear indications that the double entendre had passed right over his head.

 

**

 

Now that Max has time he takes the opportunity to properly look at David’s house. The two store loft is small, painted a pastel orange color with white windows and doors, and a small garden in the front. There are spices, rosemary, oregano, thyme and others Max doesn’t recognize growing in neat rows along the fence; and some tiny, round flower bushes near the house itself. It looks very welcoming.

The first floor is divided in a living room and a kitchen. Max is somewhat familiar with the kitchen so he doesn’t pay it much attention; his focus is on the living room. There is a TV on the wall and a soft looking couch in front of it, a fluffy carpet lays between them. Max isn’t surprised when he sees a Camp Campbell flag in a frame on the wall along the stair. There are some pictures, most of them of landscapes and historic monuments. The entire house smells like pine-scented cleaning product.

David allows Max some time to study the first floor but eventually they move upstairs to the bedroom, ensuite bathroom, and the new studio.

Max hadn’t paid much attention to this space on Friday night since he was otherwise occupied but he notices that David had moved some pieces of furniture to different places in order to make room for the studio. Now his bed is pushed against the wall instead of in the middle of the room, and the wardrobe is set beside the door and not by the window.

But the biggest change certainly is the studio itself. There is a big frame against the biggest wall and a curtain rod on top of it, a thick black fabric hangs from it covering the entire wall. The floor is covered in a soft looking beige rug and there is a small dresser with folded pieces of sheer fabric on it and spools of white and green beside it. The computer has been pushed aside and there is one big floodlight and two small ones resting beside it. Max had had the impression that there was a corkboard somewhere in the room but it is nowhere to be seen now.

“Wow, it is very different from the last time I was here,” Max comments with a tiny whistle.

“Yeah, I had to move things around a little,” David says with a happy grin. “Do you like it?”

“I guess so,” Max says and points at the fabric mounted on the wall. “Is it the fabric Christine helped you buy?”

“Yes, that is it,” David confirms happily. “Muslin is the name. Did you know it has one of the highest thread counts among the cheap, basic fabrics?”

“I had no fucking idea,” Max says but there isn’t a lot of heat to his comment. “Chris did have her way with you, hun?”

“She was very excited about the whole ordeal,” David says fondly. “I am glad I found her that day.”

Max walks to the middle of the studio, his bare feet digging into the soft carpet. He turns around to look at David and opens his arms to fully present himself.

“Ok, boss, what do you want me to do?”

“Don’t call me boss,” David asks with a frown. He crosses the room and turns on the computer. “I… I still don’t know what I want from you.”

It is Max’s turn to frown.

“I thought you had something in your mind when you decided to pay for it.”

“Well, I don’t,” he shrugs lightly as the opening tune of the computer sounds in the room. “I just have these new backgrounds, and the small floodlights are new too, and I wanted to have something nice to photograph to test them.”

“I am something nice?” Max asks with a grin.

“Yes,” once again David replies all too fast. “You are very handsome and very... expressive.” David blushes up to the tips of his ears as he says it. His mind is suddenly full of images of Max dancing, of his smiles and the light bouncing off the sweat on his skin. He takes a deep breath and starts to rummage through his music files in order to buy some time.

Max watches with interest as David’s face goes red and tiny droplets of sweat seem to form on the back of his neck. He had never seen David so riled up. Before he has the chance to tease him, though, music starts to play. The volume is low and Max can’t understand any of it - it is not in English, but in French; but it is pleasant and surprisingly intimate.

“It might be selfish, but I do find you very beautiful,” David says, still not looking at Max. “Your body has lean lines and the color of your skin is beautiful, also your eyes are very pretty and expressive. I don’t know what I want to photograph now, but I know it is you.”

Max swallows the ball that had formed in his throat. He is used to people complimenting him, calling him hot or sexy and saying how much they want to fuck him into the next day. But David’s compliment is so delicate, so genuine that it takes Max completely out of guard. He is so disoriented by David’s words that he just reacts after he hears the faint click of a camera going off.

David is facing him now, the camera hanging from a strap around his neck. It is the biggest camera Max had ever seen, complete with big lenses and a flash attached to the top. David is checking the back of the camera, with a tiny smile on his face.

“Sorry I didn’t warn you,” he says sweetly. “But you had a pretty expression on your face, if I had talked to you I would’ve missed it. Do you want to see the picture?” David turns the camera around and Max sees the small screen on the back lit with an image.

“No, don’t bother.” Max watches as David looks again at the picture. “Did you have any ideas for what you want?”

“Not yet,” David lets the camera hang on the strap and moves to turn the volume of the music a little louder. “Let me show you what Christine and I bought and maybe you can pitch some ideas too?”

Max nods and David scrambles to the small dresser where he starts to unravel the pieces of organza, shiny satin, and lace. He is babbling about each different fabric, about how they react to light or how they cover or reveal what is under them. He has a piece of flowery white lace in one hand and one of off-white organza in the other when he turns around to call Max.

“Max?” His eyes leave the fabric and find the young man, now shirtless in the middle of the room. “Max!?” He looks like a deer caught in headlights, his pupils dilate a little bit and he bites his lower lip in an unintentionally enticing way.

“You said the color of my skin is beautiful,” Max says, averting his eyes and coyly crossing his arms over his naked chest.

David had seen Max in less clothing before - on their first meeting after the end of Camp Campbell Max had been wearing nothing but booty shorts and glitter, but there is something special about seeing him shirtless now. There is a softness to Max that Caramel Thunder doesn’t possess; an open vulnerability that makes David’s heart flutter and clench tightly at the same time. With no words, David raises the camera and snaps a photo.

Max looks back at him, chin held high in order to properly meet his eyes. David approaches with the camera in one hand and the length of lace in the other. Still, in silence he gently wraps the lace around Max’s head, letting it fall over his shoulders like a veil. The weight of the fabric pushes Max’s hair down and a curl falls over his eye, partially covering David from his sight.

David walks back a few steps in silence and with no further words he takes another picture. He doesn’t waste time looking at the preview on the back of the camera, he just moves a little to the side to take a different angle and continue photographing. As David moves around Max stays in place, only his eyes, and head following David. He lowers his eyes as he looks over his shoulder, the little curl covering his left eye.

The music changes, the new one is as soft as the first, and Max moves a little to the rhythm of the unknown singer. The lace falls from his head and drapes across his neck and shoulders, he gently holds the ends to avoid losing it to gravity. David takes one more picture before moving to the floodlights which he turns on on low intensity. Then, he crosses the room and turns off the main lights, flooding the studio with soft, indirect white light. All the while Max’s eyes don’t leave him.

They start a slow dance with no particular choreography to it. Max moves a little, David follows him with his camera ready; David retreats to find a different angle and Max turns to show more or less of himself to the lenses. With each click of the camera, the floodlights go off a fraction of second of too bright light that is followed by the intimate indirect lights. The soft rug absorbs the sounds of their bare feet moving around, the music flows with only the camera and the floodlights to break its rhythm. Both David and Max are in complete silence, except for the hammering of their hearts that they keep wondering if the other can hear as well.

Max turns his back to David, the full expanse of his skin covered by the delicate lace is one of the most beautiful sights David had ever seen. The contrast of colors, the way the lace drape so delicately over the rise of muscles, the exposed length of his neck between the lace and his hair. David’s breath hitches as he moves closer, looking for different angles.

He is but a step away when Max lightly turns his head to look at him. There is a soft blush on his cheeks and his eyes are soft and his lids heavy over the green irises. His lips look particularly red, as if he had been biting on them just a moment before. From his high point of view, David sees how he is clutching the lace in nervous fists.

David reaches up and, very slowly, and very deliberately he brushes a curl of hair away from Max’s face. He can’t help but remember the way Max flinched when he tried to touch him on the first night. It is impossible not to remember this when the contrast is so big - now Max not only allows David to touch him, he rises his face seeking the contact and when David moves his hand away Max follows it for a split second.

David’s fingers graze Max’s chin in order to lightly tilt it into the perfect angle. He feels a tug on his heart when he steps away and looks at Max from a better angle. He is just so beautiful.

His posture is long and firm, like a dancer, and his presence is just as captivating. The lights shine around him like a halo, highlighting the new sharpness of his features, the gentle hollow of his once round cheeks, the slope of his neck and shoulders. David sees how shallow his breathing is in the way his chest rises and falls, and when he zooms on his face he can see the pulse point thundering on his slender neck.

David’s throat goes dry.

Max watches him as he stares dumbly, the camera slowly slipping from loose fingertips until it is hanging on the strap and not on David’s hands anymore. Their eyes meet when Max takes his first step forward and from then on their shy dance doesn’t seem uncoordinated anymore. Max’s head tilts higher and higher the more the approaches, the height difference very pronounced with less than one foot of space left between them.

The music in the background reaches a crescendo and they both hold their breath, the camera still hanging from David’s neck being the only barrier between them. Max moves his hands up, slow but not hesitant, and takes the strap on slender fingers that are still holding the lace up. David watches his movements with deep fascination.

The strap rises up above David’s head and falls to his side as Max takes the camera away from him. Without anything in their way, David finally takes a tiny step forward and his chest is already brushing Max’s when they breath out of sync. David swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing exaggeratedly.

Both camera and lace are deposited on the floor with no sound, the soft rug welcoming them in safety as Max slowly lets them down. With both items aside Max looks up at David, thick eyelashes shining against the floodlight. The young man goes on his tiptoes and leans forward so slow he might as well not be moving at all.

The brief moment before their lips touch seems to last more than the ten years they’ve been apart.

Max’s lips touch David’s softly at first, testing the waters before the plunge. When David accepts his kiss with a shuddering little moan, Max smiles and presses more, his entire body leaning heavily against David. The older man feels his knees going weak but he wraps his arms around Max’s waist and holds firmly as the kiss grows deeper.

David tightens his hold around Max, the young man’s body easily molding against him. Max’s toes barely touch the floor anymore and he just steps onto David’s own feet in order to get some leverage. He is so light and so much of his weight is already resting on David that the older man just snorts a little laugh at his antics.

The kiss continues for as long as their lung capacity allows, which is surprisingly long considering how breathless they have been. When they pull apart they don’t go any farther than the inch or two necessary to breathe, their lips not fully connected but brushing and touching with each sigh, every stunned smile. Max’s face is taken by a ruddy color, while David’s is inventing new shades of pink with every passing minute.

Max’s arms find a perfect perch around David’s neck, his fingers gently petting and twisting the auburn strands of hair. The image is so perfectly cliche, Max feels like a damsel in distress but he finds he doesn’t mind it too much. David is solid and warm and gentle against him, and Max is not used to being cared for. He basks on the delicate but strong way David holds him, on the enamored look on his face, the smile on his kiss-swollen lips.

David kisses him again. Their lips touch with more purpose now, hints of tongue and teeth showing as the softness morphs into something more fierce. Hunger grows on their chest, a craving that only the other can satisfy. A desire of devour and be consumed at the same time. Max loves every second of it, every tug on his lips, every lick and every moan that invade his mouth.

They move by instinct, by desire. By the odd familiarity of people who know each other more than they realized before. Max arches his back, offers his neck and David takes it gratefully. He kisses the juncture of neck and shoulder and slides wet lips up until he reaches the soft spot behind Max’s ear. The young man moans a little, his body sensitive to this kind of caress. Soft, careful - personal.

David’s hands slide down Max’s sides until he grabs his hips in a strong grip. He rolls his own hips against Max and kissing had consumed so much of their attention they are actually a little surprised at how hard they both are. However, once this detail is brought to light, it is impossible to ignore it anymore.

They stumble their way across the studio, taking hesitant steps and keeping the other always close by. At all moments at least one part of their bodies is touching and at all moments they crave more. Max’s back hits the wall covered in the black muslin background. It is not exactly soft, but it is not as cold or hard as a bare wall. Max liked the feeling, especially when David presses him, head to toe, against the wall.

Max groans and David is quick to swallow the sound in a heated kiss. Their lips move on their own now, searching for more warmth, more of the soft slide of one another, more of the sharp moments of clarity brought by the clatter of their teeth.

David’s hands are everywhere at once: across Max’s back, down his sides, on his hips, in his hair. Max moans softly and rolls his hips against David, his erection clearly grinding on the thigh David has between his legs. And then, suddenly, David’s hands are very much in only one place.

Due to his occupation, Max had had a fair share of people taking off his clothes but he is impressed with how nimbly David does this. He doesn’t hesitate as he pops the button open, nor when he tugs the zipper down; and he definitely doesn’t hesitate when he slips his hand inside Max’s open pants to pull his erection free. Max whines lightly, the sudden contact so good his head spins a little. David buries his face in the crook of Max’s neck, his breath hot and wet on the young man’s exposed chest.

Max can’t stay behind. He rucks David’s shirt up with one hand and slips under the soft fabric in order to touch David’s chest and back. His skin is soft and pliant, but the muscles underneath are still rigid despite his growing age. Max’s other hand makes quick work of David’s zipper and button, and Max quickly slides his hand inside David’s khakis.

David’s moan is downright pornographic, Max’s mouth waters as he hears it. The younger man pulls David’s erection free and is happily surprised by how hard and wet it is, the head a deep color of red shining with precum. He feels oddly proud to know David is as affected by him as he is by the older man.

They curl around one another, they touch and moan and press tightly together as they pump each other in clumsy but determined strokes. Max feels like it is his first time all over again, his heart beating wildly, his breath shallow and noisy, sweat breaking in bullets over his skin. A tiny, cognizant, part of his brain is mortified - what will David think of a fucking sex worker who can’t even jerk someone off properly?! But then this part burns because David makes a helpless sound, so broken and so full of pleasure that Max is sure the older man is enjoying this wholeheartedly. Max picks up the speed and brings his other hand down to gently fondle David’s heavy balls.

David is approaching the finish line and he feels it on the way goosebumps break over his skin and his breathing grows shallow and harder than before. His eyes are tightly closed because he knows one look at Max will be his undoing. So he licks at the young man’s neck to savor him and strains his ears to pick any tiny sound that comes from the amazing man against him. He wants to absorb Max in any way he can.

Max is not too far behind, his toes are curling uselessly on the soft rug and his vision is obscured by the curls, heavy with sweat, falling in front of his eyes. David is pumping him is such an erratic way, his grip too tight on the base, too loose on the crown, but it is good and Max feels his orgasm not too far away.

“David,” he calls in a wrecked slip of voice. David whimpers in response and pulls away just enough for their eyes to meet.

David was correct. A simple look at the feverish shine on Max’s eyes, at his abdominal muscles clenching, at the way his cock stands red and hot in a nest of trimmed black pubes and he is done. David cries softly as he comes, his body shivering and his face melting into something made of pure sugar and pleasure. Max feels his balls contracting, his cock pulsing; his grip on David’s erection growing more sloppy and wet as the cum drips down his shaft.

Max doesn’t let go of David’s softening cock, his own release close enough that everything else is pushed out of his mind. David pumps him earnestly now, his eyes focused on the young man.

David suddenly sympathizes with the moths that die in the fire just because they can’t not go into the flames. Right now Max is a flame, open and quivering, hot and bright and David knows he is only a spark away from turning into a forest fire. David should go away but he can’t not dive into this flame. For once he doesn’t care about burning.

He leans forward and steals Max’s lips into another kiss, deep and demanding and he smiles when the young man goes rigid against him for a second before sagging with a broken moan. Max’s body is pliant and soft, his belly painted with streaks of white and dotted with sweat. He wraps his arms around David’s neck once more, this time it is sweet and soft and David cradles him in his arms, not caring a little about the come now staining his clothes.

“This is not how I expected this to go,” David says softly.

“Was it bad?” Max asks, self-conscious and anxious. David kisses him softly.

“This was way too good.” They share a smile and Max kisses David’s cheek and then his lips.

“Well, you’ll be happy to know I have the entire evening to do this again and again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Their evening has only begun~


	11. New and Familiar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG! I posted this today at 5 am after working on it all night long, so, understandably, my brain was not working anymore by then. And this is my only excuse for forgetting to show you the amazing new pieces of art this fic received <3
> 
> I am genuinely the happiest person on this website right now <3 <3 <3
> 
> Spookynoodle676 made this [ super cute portrait of Caramel Thunder](https://spookynoodle676.deviantart.com/art/Caramel-Thunder-708483045) covered in glitter and wearing booty shorts~  
> I love his playful expression here, thank you very much darling!!
> 
> And barAcorns drew these [super hot sketches ](https://sta.sh/01xdf9seuqed) that will probably make me write Max wearing a choker sometime in the future... Once more thank you soooo much for your love for this fic, friend <3

“Well, you’ll be happy to know I have the entire evening to do this again and again.”

“You are overestimating me, Max,” David says a little breathless. “It will take some time to get me going again, I am an old man.”

“You’re not that old,” Max looks up at him with a quirked eyebrow. “What are you? Twenty-nine? Thirty?”

“I am thirty-five,” David says in an oddly embarrassed voice.

“Fuck, you’re old.”

“Ma-ax! You’re so mean,” David whines but he knocks their foreheads together tenderly anyway. Max laughs through his nose but accepts David’s softly nuzzling.

“So, do you want me to leave?” Max asks quietly and David immediately steps away to hold him at arm’s length.

“No! I want you to stay,” David’s face is open and earnest. “Please,” he adds, his eyes big and round like a puppy’s. “I mean, you can go home if you want to but I’d love it if you stayed. We can do anything: watch a movie, play some games, talk…”

Max stares at him for a moment. Is it really okay to stay? David said sex wasn’t his intention, and every time they met he was far more interested in just sharing the moment with Max than in trying to seduce him. It is still a little odd to conceive but Max is really starting to believe that David enjoys his company just for company’s sakes. He smiles.

“Can I take a shower?” Max pokes the drying mess of cum on his belly. “This is getting annoying.”

David smiles in relief. “Yeah, sure.” He lets go of Max and moves away a few feet. “I need to tidy the studio up, but… can I join you after?” David might be a little old and he has no hopes of getting another erection so soon but he isn’t about to waste an opportunity to be together with Max in his tiny shower stall.

Max smiles and kisses the corner of David’s mouth.

“Be my guest,” he says with a wink before leaning in for one more kiss. David kisses back softly, his tongue running lightly on the wet inseam of Max’s lips. It sends a pleasant shiver down the younger man’s spine.

When Max moves away David has a dreamy look on his face, it makes Max smile and his chest flutter. David goes to the center of the studio area to fetch the camera and the forgotten piece of lace and Max goes to the ensuite bathroom.

“There are clean towels under the sink,” David says over his shoulder as he listens to Max rummaging around the bathroom.

“Thanks,” the sound of the under sink cabinet opening and closing. A beat of silence. “Do you have any dental floss?”

“Yes, on the right side of the mirror,” David replies, tilting his head as he tries to remember the location of the rarely used item. Once again the sound of Max searching in the cabinet is followed by silence and David continues tidying the studio. He folds the lace and the other pieces of fabric he would’ve given Max if the photo shoot hadn’t taken such an unexpected direction. He makes a mental note to ask Max to model for him again in the future, he is curious about the effect of the other materials on him.

David places his camera back on the desk by the computer and removes the memory card in order to save the images on his hard drive. He takes a quick look at the photos as they are transferred from the sd card to the computer. They look good but he wishes he had had more time to adjust the settings of the camera and the floodlights, he knows he can do better images. He needs to. He has plans for his career and nailing a live model photo shoot is a necessary skill.

However, he can’t help but love the images, if only because of how beautiful Max looks on them, and how charged they are with intention and purpose, especially after what has just happened between them.

The computer is still processing the images when David leaves the studio to join Max in the bathroom. His mind is still analyzing the images, planning for better light and different camera settings when he enters the room. As soon as he looks up at Max, his brain stops dead in its tracks.

Max is completely naked, his jeans and underwear are half folded, half tossed aside on the closed lid of the hamper. David kind of wishes he still had his camera there with him because the way Max is so casually leaning against the sink is unexpectedly elegant. His back is turned to the door, his hips cocked to the side, his weight on one leg as the other one rests loosely, ankle crossed over the support leg.

David is surprised when he understands what that posture means. Max is comfortable. There, in his house, in his presence, the young man makes himself at home in a way that feels familiar despite being the first time ever. David can’t resist the domesticity of the scene, he approaches quietly and snakes his arms around Max’s waist, rests his face on the curve of his neck.

“Already finished tidying the studio?”

“Yes, we didn’t make that much of a mess, actually,” David says and after a beat, he adds. “Not on the studio anyway.” Max snorts.

“Your floss is expired,” the younger man comments but David notices he is flossing anyway.

“I am surprised floss expires,” David says with a frown. “I don’t floss that much, my gums bleed easily.”

“Of course they do, you don’t floss.”

Their eyes meet on the mirror and they hold this contact until Max has to move away to put the used piece of dental floss in the trash bin. He returns to David’s embrace and opens the cabinet by the mirror once more, this time to retrieve some mouthwash. David leaves him for a moment in order to remove his own clothes. Max spits the mouthwash and, when he returns it to the cabinet he notices a familiar box sitting on the back of the cabinet.

“Hey, David, does it work?” He pulls the shaving machine from its place inside the cabinet and shows it to David.

“Yes, it does,” David answers and takes it from Max’s hand. “I suppose this doesn’t expire…” he mutters sourly.

“Nice… hmm, so, usually I ask Chris to do this but, if you don’t mind it, could you shave the back of my head? This undercut grows like a motherfucker and it is past time to trim it.”

“I’d love to help you,” David replies with a soft smile.

“Thanks, David.” Max takes the box from him and selects the right setting on the machine before giving it back to David.

“How… how do you want to do this?” David looks around the small bathroom. “Maybe you could sit on the toilet? Or the edge of the tub?”

Max ends up sitting in the tub, with an old towel draped across his shoulders and holding his hair up as David carefully moves the shaving machine down the overgrown hairs at the back of his head. Other than the buzzing sound of the machine, there is little sound in the bathroom - David’s soft humming, Max’s heavy breathing, the faucet dripping ever so often. Max’s legs are a little cramped inside the small space but he doesn’t complain, his chin resting on bony knees and his toes wriggling against the porcelain.

Once again David is overtaken by how domestic it is, how simple it is for them to fall into this familiar and comfortable state. When he finishes the towel is covered in stray pieces of hair, and there are lost tufts of it all around David’s floor. And Max is humming in tune with David.

Max runs his fingers on the freshly buzzed hair and sighs happily, the feeling soft and pleasant. David touches his nape and Max drops his hands, causing the curls at the top of his head to fall over David’s fingers. The older man runs his fingers through the buzzed undercut and tangles them on the messy curls. Max makes a tiny noise that is perfectly set between annoyed and satisfied.

“You’re full of tiny hairs,” David says once the shaving machine is off and resting on the sink. “I don’t think the towel was very effective.”

“Oh, it was,” Max says as he carefully removes said towel. “It is ten times worse without it.”

David takes the towel from him and folds it, taking extra care to keep all the hairs inside it. He puts the towel aside and stands up with a groan, his back hurts after staying hunched over Max for so long. Max stands up as well and rubs his butts, surely sore and cold because of the porcelain.

“Do I look good?” Max asks with a cocky smile. David narrows his eyes and makes a pensive face.

“I don’t know, I’m just an old man I can’t be sure.”

“David, you’re the worst!” Max complains but he steps over the edge of the tub in order to kiss David anyway. David smiles into the kiss.

“Oh, yeah, I can see it now,” he says making a surprised face. “You look very good. So good I want to look a little more.”

Max laughs and bats hims away with little slaps but his face goes pink and warm and he can’t stop smiling as David makes cooing noises and tries to kiss him all over. They end up kissing one more time before David pulls away to turn the shower on. He rinses the stray hairs away before they step into the tub and close the shower curtain.

“I can’t believe your shower curtain has the Camp Campbell emblem on it,” Max says with a disbelieving face.

“It is not the Camp Campbell emblem on it, Max,” David says patiently. “It just so happens to be a pine tree in a very similar shade of green.”

“And you bought it because of your undying love for pine trees, and not because it is fucking identical to Campbell’s logo.”

“Well, joke’s on you, Max,” David says all to proudly. “This curtain was already here when I bought the house. And I do love pine trees.”

“You’re unbelievable.” Max shakes his head, voice too fond for David to take any offense on his words.

They shower in companionable silence. Max hums as he washes his hair and David makes sure all the loose little hairs are washed away - he doesn’t want Max to feel itchy because he couldn’t place the towel correctly around him. As they wash and rinse they keep touching, soft and fleeting brushes of hands and shoulders and legs that don’t feel particularly enticing or seductive but do make them feel contented.

David goes back to the bedroom and starts to rummage around his dresser, looking for comfortable clothes to stay in for the rest of the day. He puts on loose sweatpants and a threadbare tank top and is about to ask Max if he’d like some clothes too when he sees the younger man leaving the bathroom, his skinny form lost inside David’s oversized shirt.

“Max! Come here get a clean shirt at least,” David says softly, the sight of Max in his clothes unexpectedly sweet.

“I’m using this one because it was closest to me if I have to go all the way there to change it kinda defeats the purpose,” Max says as he rubs his face on the neck of the shirt. David rolls his eyes fondly.

As he does so he spots a green piece at the back of his drawer. He smiles.

“Okay, so let me take the shirt to you. Close your eyes.”

“Do I really need to?”

“Yes,” David is assertive and Max groans a little before dramatically closing his eyes.

David crosses the small room quickly, he takes off Max’s shirt and efficiently slips the new one on him. He carefully brushes some imaginary wrinkles away before telling Max to open his eyes.

“You are kidding me,” Max says as he looks down at the Camp Campbell counselor uniform he is wearing. “How come you still have this shit around here?”

“I probably had twenty or so of these back when I worked at the camp,” he shrugs but the bittersweet nostalgia in his voice is undeniable. “Most of them are gone but I still have one or two laying around. The material is surprisingly good, Mr. Campbell actually put good money on them.”

“Surprising,” Max agrees. He rubs the fabric between his fingers and is surprised with how soft it is. He has vague memories of his own Camp Campbell camper uniform but he doesn’t remember the yellow shirt to be this high quality. “He probably wanted them to last forever so he wouldn’t have to spend more money.”

“It kinda worked,” David says and he lightly runs his fingers over the embossed pine tree on the center of Max’s chest. “These shirts outlived the camp in the end.”

A new kind of silence falls over them. It is not comfortable as the one they shared while showering, or awkward and tense like their first encounter. Now it is heavy but not oppressively so, it is full of unfulfilled expectations, of longing and mismatched impressions. Before it grows too much, though, it is broken by a long string of beeps coming from Max’s telephone.

 

****

 

“Hello, Ivan! How are you, darling?”

“Good evening, Christine,” Ivan looks up from the mini fridge and nods at the newcomer. “I am fine, and you?” Christine sits on the nearest stool and spins on it once before leaning on the counter.

“I am very good, thank you, sir,” she smiles and looks around. “Where is Max?”

“Out with a client,” the bartender answers with simplicity.

“Oh… will he be back soon?”

“No,” Ivan leans against the sink and closes the mini fridge with his foot. “He is out all night long. Full period escort job.”

Christine hums thoughtfully. Max is an unusual choice for escort jobs since the clients, in general, are not too fond of his bad attitude outside the stage. In fact, Christine can only think of one person who would hire Max for the entire night. She makes an ugly face.

“Don’t tell me he is with Sam… poor Maxy.”

“You will be happy to know he isn’t with Samuel,” Ivan says with a growing smirk that catches Christine’s curiosity immediately.

“Ooooh! New client?”

“Not really,” Ivan says, purposely withholding the information. “He’s been here before, seems very fond of the boy.”

Christine furrows her brows as she thinks about it. Suddenly, she is hit by inspiration and her mouth drops into a little ‘o’ as she leans over the counter to come closer to Ivan.

“Is it David?!”

“Mr. Tall, Pale, and Squeaky?” Ivan asks although he knows the answer. Christine nods enthusiastically. “Yes, David called earlier this morning and asked for the entire evening and night.”

“Oh my god!” Christine’s face is a mix of excitement and shock. “Excuse me.”

She hops off the stool and fishes her phone from the outer pocket of her bag. Her glitter covered nails flash like the lights blinking outside the window of a fast-moving car, the tips making little noises against the screen as she furiously types a long string of messages.

 

****

 

Max returns to the bathroom to pick his phone from the pocket of his jeans. The screen is lit, messages still incoming in large volume and high velocity. Unsurprisingly, they are all from Christine. The young man leans against the sink and starts to read them.

 

From: Miss Chriss  
OMG MAXYYYYY! y u didn’t tell ur with david? as a CLIENT nonetheless!!?!

From: Miss Chriss  
Fuck.. did u fuck? I thought he wanted to b ur friend.  
Friends don’t fuck!?!

From: Miss Chriss  
He wanted ur sweet body all this time! What a rascal.

From: Miss Chriss  
Maaaaax pls answer meeeeeeeee

From: Miss Chriss  
He wants ur ass but he is nice too, rite? I felt like he was nice and I don’t want to be wrong.

From: Miss Chriss  
MAX! IS HE YOUR BOYFRIEND NOW?

From: Miss Chriss  
answer me u piece of shit, i’m having a stroke here

From: Miss Chriss  
Ivan will speak against u in the court when i die because of you *cry emoji*

 

Max snorts as he scrolls down on several messages that are basically a jumble of emojis and his name spelled in various ways. Trust Christine to be overdramatic even through text messages. The funniest part is how he can actually read the messages in her voice.

 

To: Miss Chriss  
jesus christine get a grip

From: Miss Chriss  
finally! i thought u were ignoring me *frown face*

To: Miss Chriss  
you sent over 15 messages in like 1 minute

To: Miss Chriss  
CHILL BITCH

From: Miss Chriss  
sorry…. but now that ur here spill it!!  
im thirsty *sweat emoji*

To: Miss Chriss  
like hell i'm talking about it on whatsapp  
i will tell u about it in person when i go home

To: Miss Chriss  
TOMORROW

From: Miss Chriss  
*image file attached*

 

Max opens it and is a little surprised to see it is a close up of Christine’s frown accompanied by her middle finger. His laughter catches David’s attention and brings the older man to the bathroom.

“Hey, Max, what were those texts? Are they important?”

“It’s just Christine,” Max shrugs and smiles. “She said you were after my quotation, sweet body, end quotation.”

David looks suitably offended. “This is not true.”

“I know, relax,” Max takes his hand and pulls David closer to him. “Now, look at the camera.”

Max wraps an arm around David’s neck, effectively pulling the taller man down so their faces are on the same level. With his free arm Max holds the telephone up and David barely has time to smile before the shutter goes off and the image is saved. Max doesn’t let go of David as he sends the picture back to Christine.

“Well, hopefully, this will calm her down a little.”

“Is she really worried about my intentions?” David asks seriously.

“Why are you worrying so much?”

“Because she is your friend, and she cares about you. I don’t want to give a wrong impression…”

On cue, Max’s phone rings again.

 

From: Miss Chriss  
OMG ur so cute together!!!1!!  
tell ur BOYFRIEND i said hi *heart emoji*

 

Max stares at the reply for a long while. Is David his boyfriend? They have gone on one date and had a mutual jerk-off, but those hardly qualify as boyfriend’s activities. Max knows there must be some talking about it but he doesn’t feel like doing it now, so, when David tries to peek at the message from over his shoulder Max is quick to lock the screen and put the cell phone down. David tilts his head in confusion.

“So, what do you want to do? We could watch something on the TV, no?”

“That would be nice,” David still looks a bit suspicious. “Did you send the image to Christine?”

“Yes.”

“Did she reply?”

“Yeah, she said hi, okay? Relax, David, please…”

David takes a deep breath and his shoulders drop a little as he exhales.

“Sorry, you’re right. Let’s go downstairs?”

David leads them downstairs and sits down on the couch while Max picks the remote from its place on the coffee table. David has one leg up the couch and is leaning against the armrest, the position carefree and comfortable. He expects Max to sit in a similar fashion against the other end of the couch but the young man sits on the gap between his legs and leans against him for support. Despite the initial surprise, they fit nicely in that position and David finds himself petting Max’s curls as the younger man flips through the channels looking for something to watch.

They end up choosing a cop movie to watch. The plot is not particularly intelligent but the scenes are well choreographed and the acting is good so they watch it with little complaining. When it ends they change channels and start to watch a comedy series.

Max is not a quiet person even when focused on the show in front of him. He shifts around quite a bit and slowly the soft rubbing and bumping of his body against Davis start to create some reaction on the older man’s part. David’s breathing grows a little shallow and his face heats up when he realizes most of his attention is directed at Max and not on the TV. But how can one blame him when Max is so perfect against him?

David leans down a little in order to nuzzle Max’s freshly shaven head, his free hand tracing idle circles on the young man’s bare thigh. Max’s shifting around stops for a few seconds before returning with doubled intensity.

“Max?”

“Yes?”

“Remember how I said I am old and needed time before I could go another round?”

“Yes, what about it?” There is no need to ask since David’s growing erection is pressed on the small of Max’s back. Max can’t resist baiting David, though.

“I guess I’ve had enough time already.”

David is speaking so close to Max’s ear his breath is sending shivers up Max’s neck. The younger man groans in satisfaction when David illustrates his point by lightly rolling his hips up. Max turns around and meets David face to face, his own eyes as shiny as David’s as they kiss. This time the kiss grows fast, David pulls Max closer, their legs intertwined and their hands tangling in hair and clothes alike.

“Bed?” David asks, breathless and hoarse.

“Fuck yeah.”

They don’t get up immediately. Their kissing continues for some time before they start to stumble their way upstairs. Max’s clothes don’t make it to the middle of the stair, and David’s don’t fare much better. When they reach the bedroom they are both naked, hard, and with red cheeks and lips.

David walks backwards to the bed and pulls Max with him. They fall onto the mattress with soft laughs and David pulls Max on top of him as soon as they stop bouncing. Max settles between David’s wide open legs, their erections pressed together on the small space between their bodies. David pulls Max down so they can continue kissing.

David kisses with an intensity Max has encountered few times before. It isn’t consuming or demanding; quite the opposite. It is selfless and generous, the kind of kisser that wants to give as much as he wants to take. Max melts under the wet touch of their lips, the soft pressure of his tongue. Max moans softly as David gently bites his lower lip and sucks on it.

“Wait a moment,” David says in a trembling slip of voice as he sits up and stops kissing Max.

“What?” Max asks in protest, his lips tingling and plump after all the attention David’s given them.

“Just… need…” David turns around and reaches for the bedside table, his legs tightening around Max to help balance him. Max is more than happy to hold his thighs as they squeeze him gently. David makes a small triumphant noise as he turns back to Max with lube and condoms.

Max salivates at the sight of the items. When did he become this hungry? He can’t remember the last time he was so into it. David has an oddly coy look on his face as he looks at Max expectantly.

“This is what you want, right?” David asks once Max remains silent for a little too long.

“Fuck yes!” Max dives in to take the items but David holds them out of his reach.

“Let me do this,” David’s coy demeanor vanishes when he sees Max’s reaction. “Just continue kissing me.”

Max obliges all too happily. He hears the pop of the lube bottle opening, and the wet sound of the product falling into David’s hands. He feels David shifting a little in order to create space between them so he can slip his hand where it needs to be. Max is full of expectations, his heart thundering on his chest, his blood rushing so hard and fast he can hear it in his veins. This sound, however, is completely overcome by David’s fluttery moan.

With a sharp inhale Max pulls away just enough to see David’s hand disappearing between the older man’s legs.

“Oh, shit,” Max mutters, his cock twitching violently at the sight.

David’s hair is a messy halo around his blushing and sweaty face, his eyes are deep and dark, the green mostly swallowed by his dilated pupils. The blush colors his neck too, and his chest is heaving heavily as he arches his back in order to thrust his fingers deep inside his own hole. Max has a privileged point of view where he is, David’s thighs still wide around the younger man’s hips.

Max runs his hands up and down David’s legs as he watches David preparing himself. David makes all sorts of noises, from breathless gasps to explosive moans depending on how deep he strokes his insides. Max’s mouth goes dry and he brings one hand down behind David’s balls to softly caress his perineum.

“Do you want any help?”

David laughs a little breathless giggle. “Be my guest…”

Max doesn’t need to be told twice. He squeezes lube on his finger and brings his hand back to David’s entrance. David has two fingers in now, twisting and scissoring them in shallow, rhythmic motions. Max leans back in order to get a better view as he slides his ring finger in alongside the other two.

The fit is tight, but not painfully so, and David whimpers a delicate little sound as Max sinks in to the last knuckle.

Max’s free hand continue caressing David’s quivering body. He runs gentle fingertips up his leg and rubs soothing circles on his strained hips. David reaches down and takes Max’s hand on his own. He brings it up and kisses it reverently. Max moves his finger inside him a little and David hides his answering moan on the palm of Max’s free hand.

“God, I need you,” David says against the thin skin of Max’s wrist.

Reluctantly, Max slips both hands away from David’s body. David makes a tiny, disappointed noise but he watches intently as Max slides the condom down on his cock and lather some more lube on it. Max shifts a little so he is more firmly planted on the center of the bed. He takes one of David’s legs on his hand and brings it up a little higher.

“Is it good?”

“Yes, please!” There is a begging quality to David’s voice and Max finds it impossible to deny him any longer.

With a slow and long motion, Max slides in. David throws his head back as Max fills him with care, his cock entering him with little resistance. Once Max bottoms out they both share a shaky breath, Max’s fingers gripping David’s legs a bit too harshly but neither one seems to notice or care.

“Fuck…” Max murmurs, voice full of air and awe.

“Agreed,” David says equally as winded and feverish.

Max leans down to kiss him again, but it is hard to focus on the kiss when David’s entire body is alluring and warm and all around him. They end up sharing small, messy kisses and just breathing in the hot air between them as they figure out a proper rhythm.

A part of Max wants to just fuck David senseless, use all his considerably long list of dirty tricks and make him blackout after coming. But another part of him wants to make this last, wants to make every move perfect, every second long enough to be branded on David’s memory with iron and fire. David is in a similar dilemma: his immediate need to cum is at odds with the burning wish to make it last all night long.

They settle for a deep but slow rhythm, Max’s entire body moving in sync with his hips as he thrusts into David’s pliant and hot body. Their breathing is broken, lips brushing together as they try and fail to kiss. David wraps his arms around Max’s neck and his fingers dig into the soft skin between his pronounced shoulder blades.

“You’re so good,” Max says, awed and smitten. David’s eyes are shiny when he looks up at Max.

“You are,” his voice cracks as Max grinds against his prostate. “You are gorgeous and good and oh!”

Whatever he has to say it is lost as Max wraps his hand around his erection. The space between their bodies is small and hot, and perfect as it is just enough for Max’s hand to have a good grip on David. Both of them groan as Max starts to move his hand in the semblance of a constant rhythm. David arches his back as Max runs his thumb around the head of his cock.

The rhythm they have worked so hard to build dissolves quickly as their orgasm gets closer and closer. Max’s deep thrusts become shallow and fast, a desperate grinding that has the head of his cock constantly rubbing David’s sweet spot. The effort makes Max’s entire body tremble, sweat beading over his back as he rushes blindly to his completion. He comes with a strangled groan, the hand on David’s leg holding so tightly his fingers cramp. His mind blanks for a second, the taste of David’s breath on his mouth is his only anchor as the pleasure washes over him.

“Fuck,” he says without meaning to.

David’s eyes are glazed and he is sucking on his own lip when Max looks down at him. It is an enticing sight and Max reckons he might come again if David doesn't stop making this face. “Your turn now,” Max says in a low rumble as he focuses his attention to David’s wet and hard cock.

It doesn’t take long. David is far gone and all too willing to follow Max down the edge. His orgasm is a dramatic affair, he tightens his hold on Max and carves moon shaped marks on the young man’s back. He moans brokenly, eyes shut tight and mouth going slack. Max kisses his bitten and abused lips before slowly pulling out and away.

Max takes off the condom and ties it carefully before stuffing it back on the foil package and setting both aside. He flops down by David’s side on the bed and David immediately reaches for him. They embrace carefully, movements still impaired by their most recent activities. David kisses him, soft and sweet, no traces of hunger on the gentle slide of their lips. Max smiles into the kiss.

“This was good,” David says with a dreamy sigh. “It was, right?”

“Was amazing,” Max says and affectionately kisses the tip of David’s nose.

“Amazing,” David echoes, satisfied.

The silence that follows is mellow, full of little sighs and tiny giggles as they set comfortably on the bed.

“I’m hungry,” David says after a while.

“Me too,” Max agrees, his stomach making a sympathetic noise.

“Do you want to go out and eat?”

“Heck no,” Max is emphatic, he buries his face on the crook of David’s neck to prove his point. David laughs a little and kisses the top of his head.

“So, we ask for pizza?”

“And take a shower as we wait.”

“And eat in front of the TV?”

They both grin and nod in agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT QUESTION, PLEASE TAKE A LOOK!  
> So, when I was figuring out the moment in time this fic takes place I just went with "the series takes place in 2017 so this fic is in 2027" but now I'm not feeling so confident about it. I think a lot of things I use on the fic are super dated - uber, smartphone technology, David's photography equipment etc... I may be nitpicking but it's started to bother me.  
> I watched the series again looking for some clues and realized that David found Bonquisha on Tinder, which means 2012 is a possible time for the series to take place, and it would set the fic in 2022, a modest five year in OUR future think instead of this 10-year gap I've originally created. I feel like the story would be more consistent this way but before changing I'd like to know if this is something that bothers you and what do you think of the change.  
> That's it, thanks <3
> 
> Also, this was my first time ever writing people texting each other and I'm not sure it works the way I think it does... If that scene is weird and you have ideas on how to improve it I'd love to listen because it might happen again in the future :x


	12. Friends and Emotions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am blessed! Seriously, I have the best readers and no one will convince me otherwise.
> 
> Case in point: check out the [absolutely amazing art ](https://t0byinthesky.deviantart.com/art/Max-Fanart-For-Fanfiction-710359250?ga_submit_new=10%3A1508296542) t0by made of Max. I've been looking at it for ten minutes <3
> 
> *DISCLAIMER*  
> In this chapter there is a brief mention of pedophilia during Gwen's conversation with David. It is not explicit but be careful.

Max is leaving David’s house in the morning, after a good night’s sleep, and a big mug of black coffee.

“Can I ask something before you leave?” David asks at the door, and Max only nods in response. “Will you save my number and call me sometimes? Add me on Whatsapp or something like this so we can actually keep in touch?”

“I’m not really a fan of phone calls,” Max says but he reaches for his phone and unlocks it before giving it to David. “But if you swear not to send me lame good morning images we can talk on Whatsapp.”

David smiles as he enters his contact on Max’s phone, when he gives it back he makes the Camp Campbell salute. “I swear not to send lame good morning images!”

“You’re unbelievable,” Max says fondly and he leans up to give him a quick kiss. David melts a little. “I must go now, Christine said she wanted to discuss the new outfits and performances for the club today.”

“What is wrong with the performance and outfits you have now?”

“Nothing really, but she likes to create and Sid always gives her free reign of the ‘artistic direction’ of the club.” Max shrugs and smiles anyway. “Well, she enjoys it so it is okay to me.”

“Tell her I said hi, and that I’m curious about the new performance.”

Max grins and raises his eyebrows suggestively. “Do you want to see me dancing again, David?” To emphasize his point Max crudely grabs at his own crotch making an overly dramatic face.

A deep blush overtakes David’s face and he splutters a little before speaking.

“You are both very good performers, I am curious. That’s all!”

“Well, If I know Christine, and I do, she must have everything set up for next week. You should show up next weekend to check it.” Max’s demeanor is suddenly coy as if he isn’t sure David will accept his invitation.

“Oh, I will!” David says all too enthusiastic. “But just to make sure I don’t forget or anything, you should message me some time to remind me.”

“Loser,” Max says softly but he smiles as David leans down to kiss his cheek. “I really must go now…”

“Okay, I have some work to do too and I don’t want to keep you here too long. Don’t want to make Christine wait for you,” David says with a pleasant smile. “Take care, okay? And send me a message when you get home so I know you’re safe.”

Max is half annoyed, half endeared by David’s motherly behavior. “Yeah, mommy, don’t fret,” he says without much heat. “I’ll be careful,” he adds when he sees David’s smile turning into a little frown.

David is still pouting a little bit but Max quickly fixes it by kissing him, sweet and brief, before stepping out of the house. When Max reaches the gate he looks back and David is still at the threshold watching him with a silly smile on his face. Max waves him goodbye and David’s smile goes bigger as he waves back.

Max’s heart is full of fluttery feelings and he bursts into tiny fits of giggles as he remembers the previous day. He attracts a lot of attention on the bus home, but most people just look at him fondly - one old woman sighs dreamily once she sees his blushing and giggling. When he gets off the bus his ears are red with a strange sort of embarrassment.

When he arrives home he sees that Christine has taken the entire table in the kitchen as her workplace. There are at least three sketchpads, her laptop opened on a youtube video, and a box full of art supplies Max has absolutely no hope of ever learning the name and use for. She is deeply focused on the video but when she notices his presence she pauses it and practically tackles him as she makes a million questions in under thirty seconds.

“My god, Christine, don’t you breathe?” Max extricates himself from her clutches and makes it to the sink where he drinks some water.

“You’ve been keeping me in the dark on purpose, Max!” Christine whines and pouts as she sits back on the chair. “Seriously, I am so curious!”

“I know you are, let me enjoy torturing you a little longer,” Max says smugly which just makes Christine make pitiful little noises.

“Max, please, I am serious,” suddenly, her behavior turns serious and she looks at him with a worried expression. “Was he nice?”

“The nicest,” Max says as he takes a seat in front of her. “I mean it, Chris, he was absolutely… perfect?”

Christine raises her eyebrow slightly but the look on Max’s face is so soft when he speaks it placates her worries efficiently. She rests her chin on her palm as she studies him.

“He cut your hair,” she observes and Max makes a show of pointing to his shaved head.

“He cut my hair! And we watched movies together on the couch and he was so into the cuddling and watching TV he never realized I sat in front of him and not by his side because I was hard for him the whole evening…”

“Really?”

“Yes,” Max rubs his neck, a little self-conscious. “Can you believe it? And when he finally got hard he was so fucking cute! We were back at his room and he was still asking if I wanted it and he kept saying how good it was. But it wasn’t gross or condescending, it was just spontaneous, you know?”

“Max, you are so very much in fucking love,” Christine says, at last, a smile on her disbelieving face. “I’ve never seen you talking like this about anyone else before.”

Max doesn’t reply immediately. Is he in love with David? Surely he does feel something but he can’t call it love. Not yet. David has shown him much more respect, care and attention than he’d ever received in his life and maybe that’s why he doesn’t know what to do. He has never truly known affection, how can he properly gauge the situation when his referential is null?

“Do you really think I’m in love with him?” He asks in a small voice. Christine holds his hand across the table and squeezes it lightly.

“I’m sorry, Max, I shouldn’t have said it,” she says in a very serious voice. “You were very cute talking about him, and you looked very happy on the selfie you sent me yesterday but I have no right to label your feelings. David seems like a very nice guy but your feelings are your own and you have as much time as you need to figure them out. I’ll be here for you if you need but the conclusion is only yours to make.”

“He is very nice,” Max says defeatedly.

“He is.”

“I have to text him.”

“You do?”

“He asked me to text him when I get home,” Max picks his phone with his right hand, the left still holding Christine’s hand as if taking strength from her. “He told me to take care.”

“Isn’t it a little possessive?” Christine furrows her brows as Max searches for David’s contact in his phone. He smiles a little and turns the screen to her - the contact is saved as David *pine tree emoji*.

“I don’t think so, when he asked he had a genuinely worried look on his face,” Max types a short message and places the phone, screen down, on the table. “I think he still blames himself for losing me when I was a child, all that camp thing I talked about the other day, remember?”

“Oh, yes, when you were kidnapped by your own mother.”

“It sounds unnecessarily ridiculous when you say it like this, Christine,” Max frowns and Chris laughs.

“Talking about your mother, does Hannah know about him?”

“Not yet,” Max says pensively. “I’ve been meaning to tell her but I don’t know what to say.” Max makes an imaginary phone with his hand and talks on it with a nasal voice, “Hi Honeybear, there is this guy who took care of me for a while when I was a kid and now we’re maybe dating and I’d like you to meet him because he is amazing but the nuns would probably say we’ll both burn in hell.”

“Now who is making things unnecessarily ridiculous?”

Max groans and deflates. “I am sorry. I want Hannah to know about him but until I figure out what I feel for him I think it would be best to keep it to myself.”

Christine pats his shoulder sympathetically. “Take your time, darling. I am sure David can wait; and so can Hannah.”

Silence falls over them for a moment, both immersed in thoughts until Max suddenly stands up and starts to rummage around the kitchen cabinets.

“I’ll make lunch today,” he says, suddenly full of energy. “How was work yesterday, anyway?”

“The usual,” Chris says, turning her attention back to her sketchpads. “Guess who was there asking for you?”

Max groans. “Sam?”

“Ding ding ding! Right answer.”

“And what did you tell him when he figured out I wasn’t there?”

“Well, I’d have said you were home with a terrible virulent sickness that would make you untouchable for the rest of your life,” Christine says dutifully and Max thanks her. “Unfortunately, Ivan was there and he told him the truth.”

“Damn you, Ivan,” Max mutters with a frown. “And how did he react?”

“As well as you can imagine,” she says darkly. “He literally asked for the other client’s number so he could call and ask what time you’d be free and where he could pick you up.”

“Man, that guy is a lost cause,” Max shakes his head. “He acts all ‘oh look how manly I am’ and then he cries when he takes it up the ass!”

Chris snorts a little but she quickly goes back to a more sober demeanor.

“Ivan managed to calm him down yesterday and he left without incident but I swear I was a bit scared,” a cold shiver runs down Christine’s spine at the memory. “I hope he and David never meet.”

The same cold drips down Max’s back. “Oh, please, no!”

 

***

 

From: Gwen  
Hi David! Are you free tonight?

 

To: Gwen  
Yes *smiley emoji*  
Do you want to go out? We could go somewhere new.

 

From: Gwen  
Nah, I don’t want to go out *weary face emoji*

 

From: Gwen  
How about dinner in your place?  
I can drop by the supermarket after work pick wine and cake and then go to yours

 

To: Gwen  
Merlot and dark forest?

 

From: Gwen  
Of course

 

To: Gwen  
8pm?

 

From: Gwen  
Deal

 

David smiles at his phone, it’s been a while since he and Gwen got to hang out together. Actually, the last time he’d seen her in person was when she took him to The Fruit Bowl. After that, they’ve only texted and talked a bit on the phone. Once again the urge to tell her about Max starts to itch but he steels himself and starts to make a mental list of topics of conversation that would lead away from dangerous subjects, like the bar.

It isn’t difficult to get a long list, he and Gwen still have a lot in common despite the different paths they’ve taken in life. They rarely ever talk about Camp Campbell, but they have plenty to talk about their jobs, their friends, Gwen’s pet snake, David’s travels… The list goes on and on.

It’s barely past noon when Gwen sends the first message, so David has a lot of time to tidy up the house and cook. David enjoys cooking despite knowing only three recipes, luckily Gwen likes all three of them. Since she offered to bring wine he decided to make salmon with vegetables, a good combination according to the fancy site he and Gwen liked to scroll through when they were still dating.

David has a meeting with an editor of a magazine in a few days so he works on his portfolio until about three in the afternoon. After some deliberation, he adds two of Max’s photos to the file alongside with many landscapes and some product images he produced in the studio earlier in the week. With a satisfied groan, David finally turns off his computer and goes downstairs to prepare for the dinner.

Being a naturally organized person has its perks. Tidying the house takes him very little time, some sweeping in the living room and a little cleaning product on the floor of the kitchen and he is done. He turns his attention to the food after this.

He prepares the fish and vegetables efficiently and cleans most of the utensils he uses in the process. Gwen will surely ask to do the dishes since he’s cooking and he doesn’t want to leave too much work for her. She will probably be tired from her shift at the clinic and the traffic across the city to David’s house, so it won’t hurt to take it easy on her.

David is satisfied with his preparations. He sets the table with his good plates and a pretty towel and puts the timer on the oven as he goes upstairs to take a shower.

 

***

 

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, trust me,” Christine smiles. “Sid said we’ll have a lot of bachelorette parties in the next month, so we think an all-male performance to open the nights will be a good idea.”

“Okay, it makes sense,” Max concedes. “But you know I don’t like dancing without you.”

“I know, Maxy,” Christine pinches his cheek. “It is adorable but I need you to work with the guys on this one. It will be a short number, just to open the nights, okay?”

Max groans. “Okay.”

“Good, now, pay attention here.”

Christine shows him a video clip with a group of four men dancing in some sort of prison corridor. The narrative of the video is confusing at best and nonexistent at worst but the visuals are very strong, the beat well defined and the choreography amazing. And insanely complex. Christine’s eyes shine with a touch of maniac glee as they watch the video.

“And this is what you want us to do?” Max asks, incredulous.

“Yes,” she answers decisively. “I mean, we’ll have to make our own version, but this is the idea, yes.”

“They are wearing high heels, you crazy bitch,” Max deadpans. “You want me to sprain my ankles? Ivan won’t fill in for me if it happens.”

“Oh, please Max,” she rolls her eyes. “Just give it a try, okay? I’ve learned to walk on them, surely you and the guys can too.”

“I’d rather not,” Max pouts.

“Don’t be a baby, Maxy,” she says rolling her eyes.

“I invited David to go to the club next weekend,” Max says pensively. “Do you think we’ll have it ready until then?”

“Oh, you want to impress your boyfriend!”

“Shut up, Christine!” Max pushes her away and she almost falls from her chair, but she is laughing all the while.

“I don’t know, do you think you can stop bitching and work with me?”

“Yes…”

“Good! So, pay attention again because after this we’ll go to the club talk to the guys and hopefully have it all set until next Saturday so you can make David’s heart throb. And hopefully, other parts of his anatomy too.”

 

***

 

“Sorry, David, the traffic was awful,” Gwen says as she hugs David at the door. She is barely fifteen minutes late but she knows how much David values punctuality.

“Don’t worry, you sent me a message so I knew you’d be late,” they separate and David takes a good look at her. “I hope you’re not too tired to enjoy the evening. You surely look exhausted.”

Gwen rubs her eyes lightly but shakes her head in a negative.

“I’m fine, don’t worry. It was the traffic, you know how much I hate those slow drivers who think they are on a field trip in fucking rush hour.”

“Yeah, I know,” he smiles a little and rubs his hands together excitedly. “But you are here now, and dinner is about to get ready.”

Gwen smiles at him and there is something off about it. It is small, so subtle he isn’t quite sure if it even exists. This is a rare occasion nowadays, after so many years David and Gwen are pretty proficient at reading one another. David can’t tell what is more alarming if it is the fact that he can’t immediately tell that there is something wrong, or that something happened and Gwen is trying to hide it from him.

They move onto the kitchen and David decides to put it aside for the moment. Maybe Gwen only needs some time to relax and gather her bearings before telling him what is the problem. Or maybe after some conversation, he’ll realize there was nothing wrong to start with.

In the kitchen, he busies himself with the fish and Gwen goes to the drawer get a corkscrew to open the wine. She pours two glasses and sets the bottle aside before putting the cake on the fridge to cool down a little, the hot weather had melted some of the frosting. David places the tray on a heat mat in the center of the table and Gwen brings the wine with her as she sits down.

“How you’ve been?” She asks, taking a sip of the wine.

“I’m very good,” David says with enthusiasm. “I’ve just set up a studio upstairs. It is small, just a background on the wall and some floodlights but it is mine and I am very excited about it.”

Gwen smiles benevolently at him. “This is very good! Are you planning on quit the tour guides?”

David frowns a little as he serves Gwen a generous piece of salmon.

“No, I wouldn’t be able to quit the tour guides,” he says fondly. “You know how much I enjoy them, but I want more options and it is important to widen my repertoire.”

“Do you have anything in mind?”

“I’ll have a meeting next week,” he tells her. “It is a new magazine, focused on alternative fashion and culture. I am very optimistic.”

“What a surprise,” Gwen says with a little eye roll. She takes a bite and makes a pleased sound as she chews on it. “Oh, this is better than I remembered.”

“Thank you,” David starts to eat his own food. Gwen is right, it does taste better than the last few times he’d made it. His good humor might have infected the food.

They eat in silence for a while. A few times, David is certain that Gwen will finally tell what is wrong, but she just shakes her head slightly and continues eating. He doesn’t remember the last time they had such a silent meal. David’s plate is still half full when he gently sets his knife and fork down to look directly at Gwen.

Her eyes are sunken, and she is looking very tired. Not ‘tired from work’ or ‘stressed because of traffic’, but a deep kind of tiredness that David is all too familiar with. It is the exhaustion of a person being consumed by a problem that seems too big to face. David had had this look for ten years, but Gwen had overcome it when she started to work at the clinic and made her peace with Max’s disappearing. If she is back at this kind of mental space, something really serious might have happened.

David clears his throat to call her attention. Her reaction is slow, it takes a long second for her eyes to meet his.

“Gwen, is there anything you want to tell me?”

Gwen looks down and she tightens her grip on her cutlery. Silence stretches between them, dense and dark for a long while. Gwen gently places her knife and fork down before cleaning her mouth with the napkin.

“Did I tell you about Simone?”

David frowns. This isn’t what he was expecting.

“I am afraid not,” he says carefully. “Who is Simone?”

“Simone is an eight years old girl who was abused by an uncle,” Gwen tells him with a heavy expression on her face. “She was taken to the clinic by a social worker because they needed her testimony on the trial but she refused to speak. I’ve been working with her for a few weeks. In fact, the last time we met I had to leave earlier because they needed me to go to the court see her for the first time.”

“I am sorry, this is a very sad story,” David says, genuinely heartbroken.

“It took me a long time, but she is finally talking more freely with me,” Gwen continues. “Two days ago she said she wanted to talk on the court because she was worried about Bianca.”

“Who is Bianca?”

“Bianca is her ten years old sister,” Gwen explains and something happens to her face when she says it. Her expression hardens all of a sudden, but the vulnerability in her eyes becomes more evident by the change. “Bianca went on a trip with this uncle one year ago, but she didn’t return. Simone thinks the uncle might have hurt her sister,” the emphasis on the word make her meaning clear.

David swallows dryly, any trace of good humor gone. He knows this is the kind of reality Gwen faces on her work, and he wants to be there to help and support her, but it is so difficult. It is such an awful, terrible thing, and despite being a different situation he can’t help but think of Max and how close to this he was during his childhood. David’s throat close.

“So, two days ago I started to look for signs of Bianca,” Gwen says. voice breaking. “And you know that I have quite the experience with missing children. I still remember all the sites, all the forums. I still have all the usernames and passwords.”

Tears start to form in her eyes and David wants to hold her and comfort her but he is too paralyzed to act.

“And since I was there I decided to look our old topics looking for clues about Max… David, why did you close them?” Gwen’s tone is not accusatory, it is confused and somehow betrayed. She is shaking slightly, her lip trembling and her eyes glittering with unshed tears.

“Gwen… I….”

“I am sorry I gave up,” she says pitifully. “I wish I was stronger but I couldn’t keep up with that life. But I did it because I knew you’d be strong for the two of us. I knew you’d never give up,” her voice breaks in a big sob and David’s chair falls when he stands up to go around the table and hold her.

“I’m sorry I abandoned you,” she says between wavering breaths. “I’m sorry I left you alone on this, I’m sorry you had to give up too.”

“Gwen, Gwen, please stop crying,” David holds her in a tight embrace and she weakly holds the front of his shirt in reply. “Gwen, you were right, I’ve never given up.”

“But you close the topics,” she whines. “Now you’ll never receive new information, we’ll never find him!”

“I found him.”

Time seems to stop when David says those three words. It stretches like molasses, slow and heavy around them. David’s brain catches up with what he’s said a fraction of a second too late; at exactly the same moment Gwen processes the information.

She slowly pushes him off, her face a painful puzzle of feelings.

“You what?”

“I…” David takes a deep gulp. “I found him.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HA! Did you forget this is supposed to be a sad story?!
> 
> Also, on the matter of the date I asked in the last chapter:  
> After talking to some people about it I watched "Jasper Dies in the End" again and in this episode, Jasper talks about the recently announced Star Wars prequels. Well, Phantom Menace was released in 1999 and considering that Jasper and David are 10 by then it is safe to assume David was born in 1989/1990.  
> In the Camp Camp Wiki, they say David is 24 on the series, so it is set around 2014 - therefore this story should take place in 2024. It is a 3 years difference from the original date I put here, it is not big but I feel like I should rectify it.  
> What do you guys think? Does the math add up correctly? Does it make any difference in how you enjoy the story?  
> Vote with your phones!


	13. Break and Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 13 is my favorite number and, when I started writing this fic, I really didn't expect it to reach its 13th chapter. It is now, officially, my longest fic to date. The attention and support this fic is receiving are astonishing and I wanted to do something to thank you all for dedicating time and energy to my story.
> 
> So, I asked the talented and incredibly nice [barAcorns](https://baracorns.deviantart.com/) to make two little pieces of art for this chapter. They are as pretty as a dream and I literally cried when I saw them. You'll surely like them when they show up in this chapter :)
> 
> I have no words to thank you all for the comments, kudos, amazing fanarts and general love and attention given to me. You make me so happy I feel like I could reach a billion chapters on this fic xD
> 
> Please, enjoy this milestone chapter with me!

David has seen all kinds of emotions playing on Gwen’s face on the many years they’ve known each other. He’s seen varying degrees of frustration back at Camp Campbell, the despair without precedents on the morning they lost Max, the joy of finally getting a job in the area she wanted to work in. They have been together through thick and thin and not once has he seen such a convoluted expression on her face.

As David’s words sink in Gwen’s expression mutates. First, her eyes narrow in confusion just to slowly widen in surprise. Her mouth opens a little as if she is about to say something, but it snaps shut with a click. For about three seconds her eyebrows flutter, high and low, as she goes through shock and relief until a definitive emotion settles in.

Her face hardens and this expression David knows. It is betrayal. He’s seen it before, but never in such a raw and powerful state. Gwen stands up slowly, her face set in stone: eyes slightly narrowed, eyebrows tilted in an angry angle, lip tight. The tear tracks on her cheeks shine when the light reflects upon them but she doesn’t care enough to wipe them up. She turns her body to fully face David.

She practically telegraphs her next action. The twist on her waist and shoulders, the line of her spine extending to her arm. Her hand open and rigid. The strike comes fast but David has seen it coming, and he accepts it. He knows he deserves it and despite being able to defend himself from the hit he takes it.

Gwen’s hand makes a deafening noise as it connects with David’s face, turning it away from her with the force of the impact.

It stings badly, he feels heat surging to the surface of his cheek in the shape of Gwen’s hand. Tears well up in his eyes but he knows they are not from the physical pain. He keeps his eyes averted and breathes deeply to avoid spilling them.

“You found him?!” Gwen’s tone is accusatory now, her voice raw. “You fucking found him and you didn’t tell me? What the fuck, David? Were you so upset that I’ve given up that you decided to deny me this closure? I… I… what the fuck…?”

Gwen dissolves into tears once more. She sobs loudly and her shoulders shake with each ragged breath she takes. Her face is full of rightful anger and David wants to hold her but he can’t face her yet, his own tears soaking his cheeks now. She deserves this moment of rage as much as he deserves to be the target of said anger.

“I am sorry, Gwen,” he says in a small voice. “It hurt me not to tell you, but he asked me. He begged me not to tell you yet. I am sorry.”

David is surprised when Gwen leaps forward and burrows in his chest. She is still crying but her little hiccups hide different words now.

“He is alive, he is well, right? You’ve talked to him? Please, David, I’ve shared this burden with you for so long, give me some peace now. Please.”

David holds her tightly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back.

“Yes, I’ve talked to him. We’ve met a few times, actually,” he tells her in a garbled voice. “He is a man now, Gwen. An adult, do you believe it? He’s still a shorty, though.”

Gwen laughs at this and pulls away a little. Her face is a mess of tears, blotchy and wet, but a small smile is forming and David is glad for it.

“What the fuck,” she says but her tone is light. “How? Where? Please…”

David shifts a little so Gwen can sit back on her chair and he moves around to sit on his own before speaking again. She wipes her face on the napkin and takes a sip of the wine to calm down. When she is once again composed she turns her full attention to him.

“Now you’ve dropped the biggest bomb go ahead and tell me everything, please,” she asks with a trace of command in her voice. He owes this to her and she knows it, and she will use it to her advantage. “And why didn’t he want me to know about him? Does he… hate me?”

“Oh, no, he doesn’t!” David shakes his hands in a placating manner. “He doesn’t hate you, Gwen. He, well, he is in a situation… He… you see…”

“David!” She calls with an authoritative voice. “You’re stalling, what is the problem?”

“Do you remember the last time we went out?” David opts for a less direct approach. Gwen raises her eyebrow but nods an affirmative anyway. “So, after you left I stayed a little more and the night performance started and in the end, they were introducing the dancers and…” David takes a deep breath, “Max was one of them.”

Gwen’s face is a perfect blank canvas for what feels like hours.

“He what?” She squeaks the question, a mix of shock and horror and a bit of amusement on her face.

“He was one of the dancers, he works at that strip club,” David’s face burns as he tells her. “I met him for the first time that night and we talked and when I said you were there too he panicked a little. When I said you weren’t there anymore and that you hadn’t seen him yet he asked me not to tell you. I think he was afraid of your reaction, or something like this.”

“Oh, that little shit,” Gwen says all too fondly. “Did he really think I would care about his dancing after we’ve spent ten years looking for him?”

David rubs the back of his neck. “Well, it is not only dancing,” he says averting his eyes. “He works there. He strips, and _receives clients,_ ” David’s intonation is enough to cue Gwen on what he means. She frowns for a moment.

“Oh, this is… unexpected.”

“Yes,” David agrees weakly. “And you know him, he doesn’t like showing weakness or fragility and this is a very delicate situation. He couldn’t deny it to me since I saw him there first hand, but I guess he wanted to avoid exposing himself even more by telling you.”

Gwen looks down at her plate. The food isn’t hot anymore but she is starving after work so she takes another bite despite it being cold. She chews slowly, considering David’s words in her mind.

“Did you meet him outside that club?”

“Yeah,” David squeaks in reply, face quickly turning red. He might have spilled the beans about finding Max but he definitely won't tell her about what kind of relationship they've been building on those few weeks. Gwen raises an eyebrow at him.

“And how was it?”

“Good,” David replies all too fast. “It was good. We had lunch together and talked a lot. He has a sister and shares an apartment with a nice girl named Christine.”

“Is she his girlfriend?”

“No, he said they tried but it didn’t work out so they decided to continue as friends.”

They share a smile, both deeply familiar with this situation.

“So he has friends,” Gwen says with a satisfied smile.

“At least one, yes,” David says. “Well, two I guess,” he adds pensively. “I think I am his friend now too.”

Gwen smiles fondly. “And it only took you ten years and a kidnapping of sorts.”

“Worth it,” David says softly, his heart warming up at the memory of sharing the morning with Max after their night together.

“Did you get to meet his sister too?” Gwen asks.

“No, she studies in a Catholic school for girls,” David explains. “Max enrolled her there himself. He said he wants to give her better opportunities than the ones he had.”

Gwen whistles. “Wow, he did grow up, hun?”

“He did,” David’s expression melts into something very warm and soft. “He is mature and generous and kind, the way I’ve always known he could be. He is still terrible, though,” he adds with a little eye roll.

“I hope I can meet him one day too,” Gwen says, wiping the last remnants of tears from her face.

***

Telling Gwen about Max is simultaneously the best and the worst thing David’s ever done. If on one hand he feels lighter because now he knows Gwen is at peace; on the other his stomach is a continuous pit of dread as he considers Max’s possible reactions to this. After dinner Gwen promised not to try to contact Max on her own, so David is somewhat calm, confident that he’ll figure out how to talk to Max about it.

The rest of the week goes on a rush. David is busy with some projects, he is spending a lot of time working on his portfolio, and he is exchanging a lot of emails with magazines editors to improve his network. All in all, he doesn’t have as much free time as he used to but working gives him purpose and energy so he does it happily. The only downside is that it is Saturday night and he can’t go to The Fruit Bowl to see Max.

He misses Max, and the realization is odd. He is used to having a Max shaped hole in his heart after those ten years looking for him, but it is different now. Before, this hole was filled with worries and terrible fantasies; now it is full of soft thoughts and care and desire. It is oddly titillating and pretty distracting but he manages to keep it in check in order to focus on his work.

David is watching the loading icon on his screen when his phone rings. It is a message from Max asking him if he’d go to the bar that night. With a little sad frown, David replies that he doesn’t have time and that he probably wouldn’t be able to go there on the whole weekend. A few seconds later a new message arrives.

From: Max  
maybe this will change ur mind?  
*attached file*

David sees the blurry preview of the photo and his mouth already starts to water. He taps the icon on the screen and watches it loading full of expectative. When the full image loads his breath hitches a little and heat surges to his face.

It is a selfie taken in the full-length mirror in the bathroom at The Fruit Bowl. Max stands in front of it with a wide stance, powerful and confident. His usual bad boy smirk in place as he stares at the mirror from over the lenses of sunglasses. He is wearing ridiculously tight white pants and his black leather jacket over his exposed chest. David makes a little helpless noise when he sees the spiky choker around his neck.

He loses sense of time staring at the photo but another ring from his phone brings him back to reality. 

From: Max  
did u like it?  
christine chose it for this night’s performance

To: Max  
She has good taste

From: Max  
loser *eye roll emoji*

David stares at the phone with a smile. Loser seems to be a term of endearment on Max’s personal language. At least that’s what David likes to think, considering just how frequently Max calls him that.

To: Max  
You’re very handsome  
But I am very busy 

To: Max  
*sad emoji*

From: Max  
rly?  
i was expecting to see u this weekend 

From: Max  
i kinda miss u

David’s face opens in a wide smile, it reaches his eyes and makes his entire expression glow. His heart once again flutters pathetically and he looks at the clock as he tries to figure out how to make some extra time to go to the bar meet Max. Unfortunately, he just can’t find these elusive moments so he just sighs frustratedly before writing his reply.

To: Max  
I am sorry *sad emoji*  
Can we have lunch again next week?

After a beat he composes a second message:

To: Max  
I miss you, too 

From: Max  
monday is my day off  
but u have to go w/ me to the laundromat 

From: Max  
i promised chris id do the laundry *frown emoji* 

To: Max  
Is 1 pm good?

From: Max  
sure

To: Max  
So, it is a date?

From: Max  
*attached file*

David clicks the icon in the speed of light. It is another selfie, but this time directly from the front camera and not on the mirror. The light is bad but David clearly sees a blush on Max’s cheeks as he half covers his face and his smile. There is a black stripe across the image with a white text in capital letters in it: YES U LOSER.

                                                                               

From: David *pine tree*  
*attached file* 

Max’s face is still burning when he opens David’s photo. What is happening to him? Since when is he mushy and silly like this? He’s sent his fair share of nudes and provocative pictures to previous partners but never something as… sweet as this. David brings something different in him, something soft and good. Max is not used to the feeling but he likes it, and he likes the idea of experiencing it more often.

When David’s image opens up Max unconsciously coos at it. It is David with his lips pursed in a kiss, eyes shut tight and eyebrows lightly furrowed. It is painfully adorable and Max genuinely considers deleting it because he knows otherwise he will spend hours looking at it every day. There is a text on a black stripe, too: See you Monday!!! *kiss emoji*.

                                                                                

Max saves the image as David’s profile picture.

***

“Hi, David, is everything right for today?” Max’s voice sounds strange on the phone, a bit more shrilly almost like it used to be when he was young.

“Hi, Max,” David can’t help the smile as he speaks. “Yes, it is. Is everything okay for you?”

A pause, then Max laughs a little airy laugh.

“Yes, it is just that last time I didn’t confirm and you were worried,” he trails off. “I thought it would be good to call today.”

“Oh, Max,” David’s smile turns softer. “Thank you for calling, I know you don’t like phone calls all that much.”

Max clicks his tongue. “Yeah… I’ll send you the address of the laundromat when I arrive there, ok? I don’t know it by heart,” he explains.

“It is okay, I will wait,” a beat of silence. “I’m really happy to meet you again,” David says in a very low, timid, voice.

“Me too,” Max’s reply is even lower. “See you in a while,” he says with more conviction and turns off the phone as soon as David says bye.

It is a little before noon when Max calls, and David is eating lunch by himself in his small kitchen. Suddenly, the apprehension of seeing Max returns. He knows he must tell Max about Gwen, it is only fair; but he doesn’t know how to approach the subject. He is deeply afraid that Max will get so angry at him that he will vanish again. This time for good.

David doesn’t want to lie or hide things from Max, but the idea of losing him again is even more painful. In those few weeks, he has grown used to the idea of the young man being part of his life, in a way no one else ever could. Max has been a constant, a painful one, and now he has the chance to turn ten years of pain into something good. He doesn’t want to lose it.

A sour taste settles on the back of David’s mouth. He finishes his food forcefully, the pleasure of the meal gone under the weight of his worries. Tell or not? Lie or trust? Maybe now that he and Max are in such good terms, to say the least, the young man will be more open to Gwen. Maybe David is just overthinking this and ruining his appetite for naught.

As he cleans the kitchen this new perspective grows stronger. Max likes him, on some level for sure, so he might accept this. Maybe they will discuss a little, and David is ready to apologize as much as he needs and offer any kind of compensation Max deems necessary. It will work out fine, he tells himself with much more confidence than he actually feels.

David’s phone rings with an incoming message when he is in the shower, it is the location of the laundromat. Max sent it on Whatsapp and followed it with a selfie of him carrying a big bag of clothes and frowning. David smiles and replies with a message saying he is on his way. Luckily the traffic is good and it is 1 pm sharp when he arrives at the place.

The laundromat is small, only a handful of washing machines and dryers lining up the wall, and other than he and Max only a teenage girl is there. The girl is using headphones and sitting on one of the machines while reading a magazine and completely ignoring both men.

When David enters the place Max waves at him with a satisfied smile. David approaches casually, debating whether it was appropriate to kiss Max or no. Their last farewell had been very affectionate and the texting was playful and intimate, but he doesn’t want to pressure or force things. His internal struggle is put to rest when Max goes on his tiptoes and softly kisses him on the lips.

“Hi,” Max greets him with a coy smile. “You are early.”

“In fact, I’m right on time,” David says with a soft expression. “The traffic was good.”

“Good,” Max steps back and turns his attention at the pile of dirty laundry at his feet. “Christine usually does this but she is busy with her commissions and I want to help her,” Max says eyeing the clothes with suspicion. “I don’t have any idea about what is going on here. She gave me a lot of instructions and I am afraid if I just throw everything on the machine at once she will know it and skin me.”

David laughs through his nose. “She will probably know if you do this,” he agrees. “She is very good with clothes after all.”

“She said something about colors and whites? And here I thought white was a color too,” he frowns and lightly kicks the pile on the floor.

“Don’t worry, I can help you,” David says already kneeling on the floor to put the white clothes in a separate pile. “The whites need hot water and usually take more time to wash, while the colors go with cold water and wash faster,” he explains.

Max hums, a neutral sound that just indicates that he is paying attention. Regardless, he kneels by David’s side and starts to separate the clothes with him. Once they have all the clothes sorted out David takes the white clothes to one of the machines and dumps them there. Max watches over his shoulder as he sets the machine to the right temperature and adds soap and softener to the correct places.

“Thanks, David,” Max says, rubbing the back of his neck. David can’t resist and does the same, running his hand on the shaved hair on Max’s nape. It is still soft and nice. Max shivers a little.

“So, how was your weekend?” David asks when Max sits up on the machine. David leans on the dryer beside it and Max is just high enough to rest his face on David’s shoulder like this.

“Tiresome,” Max says. “Chris is a nasty dance teacher, she is super excited with the new performance. Sadly, I and the other guys are paying for it.”

“Other guys?” David tilts his head a little.

“Yeah, Chris and I are not the only performers at the bar,” Max says. “I thought you had seen them on that first night.”

Oh yeah, now David remembers them vaguely. A group of four or five men had danced with Christine on that first night; Max was one of them but David has no idea about the others. Much of that first night has become a blur in David’s memory. The shock of finding Max was strong and their first interaction wasn’t very good. David remembers Gwen, and the distress from earlier rises again.

“Oh, yeah, I remember,” he says with a squeaky voice. His spine goes rigid and too straight, his shoulders tense and Max, whose head is resting on it, notices immediately.

“Are you okay?” Max asks with a deep frown.

“Ah, yes, I okay,” David says without much coherency.

Max leans away and looks at him directly on the eyes. “You look kinda pale? I mean, more than normal?”

“I just… Say, do you remember that Gwen was the one who took me to the bar on that first night?”

The apparent change of topic takes Max by surprise. He furrows his eyebrows a little but nods anyway. “Yeah, what of it?”

“Don’t you think it is curious that we’ve only met again because of her?”

“I still think it is curious that Gwen would be in a place like the Bowl,” he shrugs. “But she does she, I guess.”

“Well, she likes trying new places,” David says, his voice still strained, a forced cheer on it that sounds particularly bad on him. “She is very open-minded, you know? And she always tries to see from other people’s perspectives, and to understand the other side of the story…”

“Why are you saying this?” Max’s voice is full of suspicion.

“Because she is a good person,” David’s face twists in a mix of shame and pain, all pretense of cheerfulness gone. “And she cares about you and deserves to meet you…”

Max is staring at him with a deep frown and David shuts up with a choked sound. They look at each other for a long moment, the noise of the washing machine working is deafening on the still air. Max’s face is set in stone, eyes narrow and lips tight. After a long moment, David can’t sustain his stare anymore; he turns his face a little and that’s when Max’s face crumbles.

“You’ve already told her,” Max says slowly, disbelief plain on his face. “It asked you not to and you did.”

“Max, I am so sorry!” David says quickly, he turns around so he can stay right in front of the younger man. “I am so, so sorry but she was crying and I despaired and I told her.”

“What the fuck, David?!” Max hops of the machine and stares at David with so much hurt and hatred in his eyes that David feels very small despite the many inches he has over Max. “You didn’t have this right! I thought you liked me, I thought you respected me!”

“I do! I do like you a lot, and I respect you but it was a difficult situation,” David explains, tears silently welling up in his eyes. “She is dealing with a missing child on her work and she was devastated and it slipped. I swear I didn’t plan on telling her, it was an accident!”

Max’s own eyes seem to shine with tears but his entire face is completely frozen in a pained frown.

“Go away, David,” he says with simplicity.

“Please, Max, talk to me,” David begs, his lip quivering as he tries to hold back tears. “Please, let me explain.”

“David, we are in a public place,” Max says with a forced calm that makes all his muscles tense. “I don’t want to make a scene because Christine and I need to come to this fucking place every week and I don’t want to make a bad reputation here.”

“So come to my house later,” David begs. “Let’s talk when we’re calmer. I can make dinner and we can figure…”

“No,” Max interrupts him with such emphasis that the girl sitting on the other side of the room looks up from her magazine to them. “Go away now. I don’t want to see you again.”

“Please…”

Max turns his back to David, eyes obstinately fixed on the opposite wall. David means to touch him, to turn his around and hug him and beg for forgiveness, but he doesn’t. He might have betrayed Max’s trust but he cares and respects him and he won’t touch the young man when he clearly wants David gone.

“I am sorry,” he says softly. “I know what I did was wrong and I am so, so sorry. If you ever forgive me… I… I was happy to have you again in my life and I will always want you here. So, if you think there is a chance…”

“David!” Max’s voice is garbled, and he sniffs a little as he speaks through his tears. “Go away, please.”


	14. Confront and Comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Local man and angry stripper are too emotionally stunted to apologize. See more at 7 pm!
> 
> I love it when I figure a way to create an alliterative title for the chapter :D

Gwen has never been so overworked before. There is a new social worker in the city and he is rigorous and hard, which means he is sending an alarming number of children to the clinic. Most kids need only one or two sessions to open up and Gwen is happy to help but she thinks many of these children don't actually need her, the social worker is just being overzealous. Regardless of her opinion, though, the workload is bigger than ever and for almost two weeks she barely has time to breath.

After this turbulent period someone tells the new social worker he needs to be more selective and, finally, the number of patients return to normal.

During those two weeks, Gwen doesn't think too much about David or Max. Every once in a while a wave of relief would wash over her, and despite the crazy working schedule she feels overall lighter but even her traditional phone calls and text messages are put on a hold for a good fifteen days. Being as busy as she is, Gwen doesn’t care much for it, though.

Once the workload goes back to normal Gwen takes one day for herself. She cleans Doctor’s aquarium and feeds her snake treats while singing softly to him; then she goes to the couch to watch TV with the python lazying around on the backrest. After some time she decides to take a long bath and happily spends one hour in the tub.

She feels relaxed and content when she returns to her bedroom, hair still wet and fingers looking like old prunes.She flops down on the bed with a little sigh and takes her phone from the nightstand where it was charging. There are some emails she had ignored during the last two weeks, a lot of Facebook notifications and messages on Whatsapp. Gwen replies to the messages first and is a little surprised when she realizes none came from David. Despite their mostly daily contacts, it is not rare for them to go some days in silence, but they’ve never gone so long without a single message.

Gwen sighs, conscious that this is mostly her fault. She has been busy but she could’ve find a moment to give David some attention. Decided to compensate for her slip she gets more comfortable against her pillows and hit the call button beside David’s name.

The phone rings for a moment but David doesn’t pick up and eventually it goes to voicemail. Gwen frowns, she is sure the line has connected. Did David reject her call? Maybe he is busy, she rationalizes, scratching her cheek in consideration. She types in a message, a quick apology for going so long without talking to him and asking him to call her to chat as soon as possible.

Almost immediately the check marks turn blue, indicating that David has read the message. Gwen stares at the phone for a moment longer, waiting for either a reply or an incoming call but none come. David doesn’t acknowledge or reply in any form, causing a little bubble of annoyance to form on Gwen’s chest.

“What a fuck…” she murmurs while writing a new message asking if David was angry with her.

Once again the read notification turns blue but no reply comes. Slightly more furious than before she tries calling once again, and once again the call is ignored.

 

To: David   
What the hell, David!   
Pick this fucking phone you moron

 

She is actually surprised when a reply comes mere seconds later.

From: David   
bad mood sorry

 

Gwen’s frown deepens. It isn’t like David to act like this. Even when he is in a bad mood, a rare occurrence on and of itself, he still has the energy to properly talk to her. She doesn’t remember the last time he sent such a sloppy message. David is quite the perfectionist and he prides himself on good grammar and punctuation even on texts.

A bad feeling settles on Gwen’s gut. As she reads the message, again and again, a faint memory comes to the forefront of her mind. Three years ago, on an August night just a few days after Cynthia’s miscarriage, Gwen was texting David on an attempt to cheer him up. At first, he didn’t reply, but when he did it was in this loose sentence, no punctuation, no capitalization, no cohesion. The next day Gwen received a call from Cynthia’s brother telling her that David was in the hospital.

All the relaxation and satisfaction vanish from Gwen when she sits up straight on the bed, eyes wide in apprehension. Is David going through a bad depressive episode again? After all these years it is difficult to believe but Gwen knows fairly well how depression can be tricky and sneaky. 

Gwen jumps out of the bed and dresses up as fast as she can. She doesn’t even bother with makeup and only quickly fixes her hair before taking her car and putting it on the street with alarming speed. While driving she tries her best to persuade herself that she is overreacting. David might be just in a bad mood, a little upset because of her silence, a little tired of working. The time his computer broke and he lost many photos he was in an astonishingly bad humor for days on end; maybe something similar had happened now.

When she arrives at David’s house the bad impression left by the text only worsens. The usually perfectly well-kept garden is overgrown and shabby. On a normal house, or even in a normal situation, Gwen wouldn’t care too much about the grass being two inches taller than normal, but gardening is one of David’s favorites pastimes and if he’s ignoring it then he must be in a very bad mood. But probably what really sets her on the edge is the fact that all the windows are closed.

David might not be a camp counselor anymore but he is still an outdoorsman at his heart. He takes any opportunity to go out on nature, he complains about Gwen’s love for spending the weekend under the covers instead of at the park, and he uses natural sunlight for as long as the day lasts. It is evening already but there is still natural light outside, the sunset still a good hour away, but all the windows are closed and Gwen can see the lamp on in David’s room.

“Ok, Gwen, take it easy,” Gwen tells herself as she crosses the garden and reaches in her purse for her spare key. “He is just sick, or moody, or working on something that needs a specific kind of light…”

The interior of the house mirrors the state of the garden. It is not exactly messy, but the little things added together account for an alarming portrait of David’s situation. There is a blanket tossed on the couch, half of it on the floor; and hot pocket wrappers litter the coffee table at the center of the living room. By the side of the door, David’s shoes are flipped over and unaligned.

“David?” She calls softly, a little worried about what she might find upstairs. “Are you here?”

There is a faint noise on the second store of the house, groaning and shuffling around but no concrete reply from David. Gwen swallows dryly. What if David was kidnapped and she is walking right into the criminal? She slips her hand into her purse and takes the pepper spray in a tight fist.

“David?” She starts to go up the stairs, one step at a time, breath suspended. The shuffling noise turns into footsteps, coming closer to the doorway. Gwen steels her nerves.

A figure stands on the doorway, thin and tall and disheveled and Gwen’s first reaction is to pull out the spray and point it firmly in its direction. The light shines behind it obscuring the features but the way the shadow tilts its head is unmistakably David.

“David?” She calls once again.

“Gwen?” David replies, confused and hoarse. He flips on the lights on the staircase and Gwen’s relief upon seeing him okay vanish when she gets a better look at his face.

David has barely any body hair at all and growing any sort of beard is a big challenge for him, so the thick stubble on his cheeks and chin speaks volumes about his condition. Gwen supposes he hadn’t shaved during all the time they hadn’t talked. His eyes are sunken and red, and his cheeks are hollow. He looks a lot thinner than he did barely two weeks before when they had dinner.

“Why are you here, Gwen?” David asks with no inflection.

“I was worried about you,” she replies with sincerity. “You didn’t pick my calls and your text was really off…” she stops talking when she notices how vacant his eyes are. “And I think it is a good thing that I came. David, what’s happened?”

She climbs the last steps on the stair and comes face to face with him. He is wearing an old white shirt that has hot pocket sauce stains on it, and an ill-fitting pair of shorts. It seems like he hasn’t changed clothes for a few days. David stays immobile for a moment before turning around and walking back to the bed.

“I am in a bad mood, Gwen,” he says. “Just this, no need to worry.”

Gwen follows him into the room and sits at the edge of the bed.

“David, I know you. It is not just a bad mood, something happened and… wait, is this Max?”

David’s phone is on the bedside table, and an incoming email lights the screen for a moment, enough for Gwen to see the image set as background. It has been ten years since she last saw Max but she knows the young man on David’s phone is him. She reaches out for the phone but David is faster, he grabs the device and holds it against his chest. Gwen stares at him, puzzled; annoyance and worry playing turns on the reign of her mind.

“That… that is him, isn’t it? It is Max of your background.”

David steals a quick glance at the phone, and for a millisecond a light shines in his eyes but it dies fast. He sets the phone down and sighs deeply.

“Yes, it is.”

Silence.

“May I see him?” Gwen asks, curious but also nervous. She couldn’t make much of the picture on the second or so that she saw it, but it seemed rather… intimate.

“Gwen, do you think I am a bad person?” David asks all of a sudden.

“What?”

“Am I a bad person, Gwen?” David repeats the question, a heavy sadness weighing his words down. “I always try my best, I try to be nice and good and optimistic and helpful, but… do you think I am any of those things?”

Gwen recognizes this kind of rationalization. David’s definitely in a depressive episode, the worst he’s had in years, and she is glad she had taken the time to come see him. She immediately goes into therapist mode, assuming a nonthreatening posture and regulating her voice to a pleasant, soothing tone.

“You are a very good person, David.” She says softly. “You are kind, and generous and nice.”

“Am I really? Because I… I think I am doing it all wrong,” David’s eyes fall to the duvet. “I am an impostor, Gwen.”

“Why do you say this, David?”

“Because every time I am happy something happens and destroys my life!” David’s voice escalates during the phrase, and he finishes in a loud and tense note. He looks up at her, guilty and sadness in his eyes. “Sorry,” he mumbles quietly.

“What’s happened?” Gwen asks again. “Why were you happy before but aren’t now?”

David looks at the phone cradled on his limp hands. He unlocks the screen and stares at it for a moment, the angle makes it impossible for Gwen to see the image but right now she is more concerned with David himself.

“After ten years I finally found Max,” he says slowly. “At first he rejected me, I wanted to hug him so badly the first time we met but he flinched when I tried to touch him,” he tells, eyes still fixed on the phone. “But he said I could return to the bar to see him again, and I did. Oh, why did I do it? If only I had accepted that he was alive and moved on, but no, I was selfish, Gwen. I was selfish because I wanted more. I wanted to have him in my life, I was so happy to see him I wanted that feeling forever.”

“But you did meet him again, didn’t you?”

“I did… yes, I did,” he slowly looks up at her. “Please, don’t hate me,” he asks softly.

“I would never hate you, David,” Gwen comforts him with a small smile.

“But I deserve to be hated,” he murmurs. “Because I took Max and I took more than I deserved.”

“What have you done to Max?”

“I kissed him,” David replies with a pained expression. “We kissed and we had sex and I still wanted more.”

“You and Max had sex?” Gwen’s professional façade breaks for a moment. “Really? What the fuck…”

“See, you hate me,” David recoils, folds his legs up and hides his face on his knees.

“No, no, I don’t,” Gwen says quickly. She leans over him, touches his shaking hands and rubs soothing circles on them. “I don’t hate you, David, I was merely surprised. How did this happen?”

“I needed a model and I hired him one evening,” David says, his voice muffled by his legs. “And suddenly I couldn’t look away from him, and he kept coming closer until we were a mere inch away. He kissed me, one thing leads to the other, we had sex.”

Gwen is proud of how well she takes the news. Maybe if they weren’t in such an impossible situation, maybe if she weren’t walking on eggshells, maybe if David weren’t one step away from a breakdown, she would have questioned it more, would have confronted David for his behavior. As things are, however, she just takes the blow and keeps moving forward. Once David is back in a better place they can have a proper conversation about it, she decides.

“And what happened after?” She continues asking. “Did he regret it?”

“No,” David suddenly looks up from his lap. “It was good, so good. He kissed me the morning after, invited me to go out with him. We met again after we had sex and he even kissed me when I arrived.”

“Then, what happened that you are so devastated?”

Whatever energy David has seems to leak out of him with the first tears going down his face.

“I told him about you,” he says, voice garbled and broken. “I told him that you knew about his being alive and his work, and he… He asked me to go away.” David goes very silent for a moment, his hiccups stealing him of his voice. “He said he didn’t want to see me anymore.”

Gwen’s heart breaks when she sees David so helpless like this. David is a fragile thing but she has seen him destroyed like this only a handful of times in the thirteen years or so they’ve known each other. The night Max was taken was the first time he was devastated. When Tony moved to Alaska he was sad and morose for weeks but nothing even close to this. The only other time she feared so much for his mental and emotional safety was in the aftermath of the miscarriage and his suicide attempt.

“Oh, David,” she says softly, embracing him in a loose but comforting hug. “He is surely overreacting, he is not a child but he is still young and impulsive.”

“I called him, many times, he ignored all my calls,” David tells, voice croaky. “I sent messages and called and left voice mails but he ignored me for days and days.”

“Have you talked to him after this?”

“No,” David says softly. “I really want to, I miss him so much,” he breaks into another fit of tears and Gwen patiently waits for him to calm down.

“I am sure he misses you too,” she says as she rocks both of them back and forth slowly. “You are a very good person, David, anyone would be happy to have you on their life. Max is stubborn and proud, but I am sure he likes you. He always did.”

“He hates me.”

“No, he doesn’t” Gwen assures him once more. “Everything will be fine, don’t worry. You are good and kind and lovable and deserves to be happy,” she says with emphasis. “You’ll be fine, we’ll figure it out in the end.”

David makes a small noise, not dismissive but a clear indication that he doesn’t truly believe her. He burrows further into her embrace, his shoulders still shaking slightly as tears stream down his red face and get lost on his beard. Gwen pets his hair and hums a soothing tune as he slowly relaxes and eventually falls asleep.

A text lights up the screen of David’s phone and Gwen looks at it, taking the opportunity to look at Max’s picture.

On the photo Max has a long piece of lace draped around his head, it flattens his curls against his forehead and frames the intensity of his gaze with an odd softness. There is a blush on his cheeks and the flash of the camera has created spots of light in his bright green eyes. He has turned into a handsome man, Gwen has to admit, but what catches her attention the most is not his appearance per se, but the expression on his face.

Gwen is very good at reading people, a skill she practices at work on a daily basis. In just one glance she can tell that Max is charmed by David as much as David is by him. On the picture, Max’s stare is intense and looks directly into the camera, but there is a softness to it that can only be the result of genuine affection. David said they had sex, but only lust doesn’t make a person’s lips turn into such a delicate smile, and the blush on his cheeks and the tip of his nose resemble a maiden in love on those old dramas.

Max has the right to be angry at David after the older man has broken his promise of not telling Gwen about him. In some extent, Gwen even feels a little guilty about the situation. But the best way of dealing with this guilt is acting and Gwen knows that despite his anger Max couldn’t possibly be serious when he said he didn’t want to see David anymore.

The sun is almost completely down, the sky is a mess of orange and pink and the dark colors of the night are already seeping in at the edges. Gwen has little time to act, but she already has a course of action plotted in mind and no intention of wasting time.

***

“Caramel, you’ve got a client.”

“Now?” Max looks at Ivan as he passes by the bar on his way to the backstage. “But I’m on the opening performance tonight.”

“I know,” Ivan shrugs. “I told the client but she was frantic to see you.”

Max’s eyebrow raises a little. She? He’s never been very popular with the female public at the bar and his handful of regular clients are all men. Max actually has no preference between men and women but the fact that the client is female piqued his curiosity.

“Is she hot?”

Ivan snorts. “Yes, and she was very emphatic that it needed to be you and it needed to be now. I don’t know what kind of advertisement people made about you but I hope you to live up to her expectations.”

Max flips him off and crudely grabs at his own crotch, daring Ivan or anyone else around to question his sexual prowess.

“Fuck off, old man,” he says and starts to walk down in the direction of the rooms. “Tell Strawberry that I won’t make it to the first performance. She’ll blow a fuse so deal with it.”

Ivan watches him go with a little smirk on his face.

***

Max enters the room with a confident gait. Extra money and an excuse to skip one performance, what else could he wish for? Ivan said the woman was hot so maybe he’ll even have some real fun as well. Perks upon perks!

“Hello,” he says as he sees the woman sitting on the armchair. She is looking down at her phone, her hair is a reddish brown color and is up in a messy bun. The angle doesn’t allow him to see her face. “I’m Caramel Thunder, it seemed like you were looking for me.”

“We need to talk, Max.”

For the second time in as many months, Max feels like he’s been thrown into a time tunnel. Gwen has a steely stare that Max doesn’t quite remember from Camp. Whatever has happened in those ten years it changed her for good. Max had always had a sort of spiteful respect for Gwen but now she has a very commanding aura to her that would have made even 10-year-old Max obey her in the blink of an eye.

“Gwen?” He half asks, half accuses.

“Hello,” she says and for a moment that powerful thing goes off and she seems just relieved. David might have told her about Max but it is the first time she sees him after Camp Campbell and she can’t quite control her emotions. “I am actually very happy to see you,” she says softly.

Max’s heart clenches a little. In all honesty, he is happy to see her as well, but her coming is charged with too many intentions and guilt and shame.

“Whatever,” he scoffs despite his internal turmoil. “Did David send you here?”

“He didn’t,” she says categorically. “He doesn’t even know I am here; I came by myself.”

Max frowns a little. Gwen’s posture is tense, nervous but also firm. She has come with a purpose, Max is sure of it.

“So, do you want to bang me?” He asks, not really knowing what to think about it. The first night he and David met he assumed David wanted sex and he was actually okay with it, even if not particularly excited about it. Maybe if he had met Gwen first it would have been the same for her, but, considering all that has happened between Max and David (and Gwen, to an extent), the young man feels a bit uncomfortable with the idea of having sex with her.

“What?” Gwen sputters. “No, of course not, you moron!”

Max looks confused. “If you’re not here to bang, nor because David asked you to, then why the fuck are you here?”

Gwen groans in frustration.

“Okay, sit down you little shit,” she says patiently and waits until Max sits down on the bed before continuing. “I am here to talk. David didn’t send me, in fact, he is passed out in his house after crying himself to sleep right now, and I can’t allow this to continue.”

Max is taken aback by her line. “What has happened to him?” He asks, worry overthrowing all the other emotions in his mind.

“You did!” Gwen says emphatically. Max blinks owlishly at her outburst. “Max, I’m not going to discuss your reasons to ask him not to tell me about you, and I am not denying your right of being upset that he didn’t keep his word,” she tells him in a stern and clinical voice. “He didn’t mean to tell me, I was about to have a breakdown and he freaked out and babbled. You know how squeaky he is.”

“Very much so,” Max replies with no inflection.

“I understand your anger, but it is misguided,” she continues. “He meant well, he just wanted to comfort me; he would never blatantly betray your trust.”

“How would I know it? How would you know it?” Max crosses his arms and questions angrily. “He popped up in my life two months ago, it is not like I have any reason to believe I am special for him or anything.”

Gwen goes silent. A stunned silence, an unbelieving silence.

“Max, let me make one thing clear because it looks like you haven’t understood a single fucking thing about this whole situation,” Gwen’s voice is calm on the surface, but there is fire under her words and Max feels the heat radiating from them. “David has spent the last ten years constantly looking for you. After I gave up, after the police gave up, after everybody told him to give up, he continued. Tony was an amazing guy and David broke up with him because he didn’t want to lessen his chances of finding you. The first thing he did when Cynthia told him she was pregnant was to ask if they could name the baby Max.”

“He was looking for a ghost,” Max says somberly, but his eyes are shining with unshed tears.

“He was looking for a kid he cared about!” Gwen explodes, she stands up from the armchair, hands curled into tight fists. “For almost two months you were nothing but a headache at Camp Campbell but David has never treated you with anything other than pure kindness and generosity. If you weren’t so busy being a tiny asshole you’d have noticed how good of a guy he is and how much he cared for you ever since that time. David wasn’t chasing any ghosts, he was looking for a very real and very problematic boy who seems to have grown in the legs but not in maturity!”

Gwen is shaking after her tirade, her face red and lips quivering. The emotional outbreak exhausts her and she flops down on the armchair with a tired groan.

“I don’t know everything you’ve gone through in this last decade, but I imagine you have had good reasons not to trust people before,” Gwen says, voice flat at last. “But David has never given you any reasons not to trust him, he would never purposely wrong you, Max.” They stare at each other for a moment. In a much softer voice, she adds, “He cares so much about you. He is devastated, please, consider giving him a second chance.”

Max suddenly bursts out into tears, much to Gwen’s surprise. He hides his face and his shoulders shake violently as he curls in on himself on the bed. Gwen watches, unsure if she should intervene or not.

“I miss him so much,” Max’s voice finally comes, muffled and garbled but clear enough for Gwen to hear it.

“He misses you, too,” she says softly. “He set your picture as the background of his phone,” she adds with a tiny hint of tease in her voice.

Max reaches into his pocket and tosses his own phone at Gwen. She stares at it in curiosity for a second until she understands Max’s meaning. She unlocks the screen and sees a picture of both Max and David set as background. It is a selfie, taken in David’s bathroom if she isn’t mistaken.

They are smiling in the photo.

“Why didn’t you call him?”

“I can’t,” Max replies, still curled on the bed.

“Why not?”

“I deleted his contact,” he tells in a strangled voice. “I was so angry and he kept calling me and sending messages. I don’t know what overcame me but I simply deleted it.”

Gwen stares at Max for a few seconds, an odd urge to laugh growing on her chest but she bravely controls it.

“Don’t you know where he lives?”

“I do, but... “ Max groans, long and pitiful. “Fuck, Gwen, I am sad and miserable too, have some pity on me!”

“I don’t know if you deserve it after this overreacting fiasco,” she says with a grin.

Max shots up from the bed. “Please, Gwen, help me! What do I do to make peace with him? I know I was a jerk and I thought I had lost my chance but I want to be with him again.”

All of Max’s insecurities show clearly in his eyes at that moment, and Gwen softens when he looks up at her with teary green eyes and a genuinely contrite expression on his face. She sighs and smiles a little. Gwen swipes her thumb across the screen and the phone unlocks, she opens up the contact list and adds David’s number to it.

“He has waited ten years to see you,” she says, soft but stern. “Don’t you dare make him wait that much again.”

***

David is half asleep when the phone starts ringing. He is not feeling like talking to anyone, but the ringtone is annoying so he takes the phone, intending on ignoring the call and turning it off. His thumb is already reaching for the red button on the screen when his eyes properly focus on the name over the little phone symbol. He hits the green button so hard the phone almost slips out of his hand.

“Max?!”

“Hi, David.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the angsty cliffhanger on the last chapter, I had no excuse except for the way my brain seems to love to shut off in inconvenient moments. Also, I think this was the first time I went a whole week without a new chapter? Real life has been a bitch lately. Hopefully, this much lighter ending will appease you.
> 
> Once more, thank you all for your support and attention. This fic exists because of you and for you, so don't hesitate to comment, I love hearing your opinions and suggestions :D


	15. Honey and Cilantro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who is in for some fluff after weeks of angst? I sure am!
> 
> Once again, thank you so much for your love and support! I literally cry a little bit with every comment and kudo and art, you make me the happiest writer on this site <3

“Max?!”

“Hi, David.”

David jumps out of the bed, cradling the phone against his face like it is something precious. He opens his mouth intending on speaking something - anything, but all he does is gap a little like a fish and look lost as he forces the last tendrils of sleep off of his mind.

“Can I come over your place?” Max asks.

“Yes!” David replies immediately.

“Oh, good,” Max releases a hard exhale. “Because I’m already here.”

Max hears a tumult on the second store of David’s loft and one second later the window is thrown open causing the young man to flinch a little. David’s head pops out of the window almost comically.

“Max!” David exclamation comes from both the window and the phone still pressed to Max’s ear. “I’ll open the door, don’t leave!”

David disappears before Max has the chance to answer. Of course, he is not leaving! He had spent two pitiful weeks just wistfully wishing he could come back, he is not throwing away this new chance. Gwen’s scolding the night before hurt but it was well deserved and he knows it. He is ready to apologize and make things right just like David was that afternoon at the laundromat.

The door opens, Max’s breath is suspended. All the things he had rehearsed suddenly flee from his mind. The well-composed apologies, the heartfelt confessions, the logical explanations. All gone. When David finally appears in front of him all Max can do is throw himself at the older man in as tight a hug as possible.

“I am so sorry,” Max mumbles, face pressed to the crook of David’s neck.

David is completely taken by surprise, so much so that it takes him a few seconds to react. When he does, he wraps his own arms tightly around Max, bringing the younger man closer to him. Max’s shoulders relax once David hugs him back.

“You don’t need to apologize, Max,” David says in a slip of voice. Max tenses a little again and gently pushes David away. When they look at each other, Max’s stare is hard despite the fragility on it.

“No, David,” he says, serious and focused. “I’ve been a piece of shit with you for no good reason and I caused you pain you didn’t deserve. I apologize for overreacting and for not trusting you, and for being an ass to you that first night we met at the bar.” He takes a deep breath but continues before David has time to reply. “And, honestly, I am sorry that I ruined your last year at Camp Campbell being a fucking brat all summer long.”

“Oh, Max,” David sighs a little. “Of course you are forgiven.”

“Thanks,” Max says and he actually looks relieved, lighter. “You’ve lost weight.”

“I wasn’t feeling like eating,” David says without meeting Max’s eyes.

“Or shaving,” Max adds in a deadpan.

Slowly, David brings his hands up to touch his face and the way his eyes widen and his mouth drops a bit indicate that he hadn’t really noticed his own state. David looks around for a few seconds, hands still idly holding his own face. For the first time in two weeks, he really pays attention to his surroundings. He takes in the overgrown grass and the state of his own mismatched and dirty clothes, he runs his fingers down his hair and finds it oily and messed up.

“Oh my god…” he whispers softly, mostly to himself.

“Hey, David, before you have an attack, may I put Chris’ scooter inside?” Max cuts into the beginnings of David’s freak out.

“Oh, sure,” David replies, looking over Max’s shoulder to find an unsurprisingly pink scooter parked in front of his house. “I don’t have a garage here, but you can put it on that space beside the cilantro vases.”

The gate is narrow and it is a bit troublesome to roll the scooter inside but Max does it anyway. This neighborhood is nice and it is broad daylight, but Chris had been very generous offering her scooter so Max wouldn’t need to take the bus; the least he can do is make sure it will be safe.

Once the scooter is properly parked beside the cilantro Max returns to the front of the house, only to find David crouched down plucking the weed that had grown between the pebbles on the walking path. Max purses his lips.

“David, what are you doing?”

“Oh, just cleaning the garden a bit,” David says waving a handful of weed around. “I haven’t been very active lately, I should have plucked these gosh darned weeds days ago.”

Max crouches by David’s side. Up close he can see how bad David really is. His eyes are bloodshot and sunken, much more than any other time he can remember. His cheeks are hollow, his lips a little cracked, his beard a shabby mess. Max wants to scold David for allowing himself to fall like this, but he can’t.

He can’t because he feels guilty. Because he knows part of this is his fault. Also, Max can’t really blame him since he too can get very neglectful with his self-care when he is feeling down or sad. All in all, the image weighs down on Max’s chest, unpleasant and sorrowful.

“Have you eaten breakfast?” Max asks at last.

“No, I haven’t,” David says, eyes still focused on the grass. “I was sleeping when you arrived.”

“But it was 9:30 when I arrived.”

“I really wanted to sleep,” David says, even more focused on the task at hand.

Max gently grabs his wrist and plucks the weeds from his hand. David looks up at him, a broken look on his face.

“We’ll have time to fix the garden later,” Max says gently. “How about I make some breakfast while you go upstairs and take a good shower?” David is silent for a moment, eyes darting between Max and the garden and the frayed edge of his old shorts.

“I am not kissing you until you are decent again,” Max adds categorically once it is clear David is about to protest.

“You… You still want to kiss me?” David asks, eyes widening once more.

“Not while you’re like this,” Max says, pinching David’s cheek and purposely pulling on some of the long and messy hairs on his faulty beard.

“Ouch,” David rubs his face soothingly once Max lets go of him.

Max stands up and David follows suit, his humor already starting to change. David opens the door once again and freezes when he sees the state of the living room. He quickly starts to pick the plastic wrappers laying around the floor and mumble apologies and explanations. Max sighs and shakes his head a little.

“David!” He calls and David promptly turns around to look at him. “Go to the shower now, you big idiot. I pick up your hot pocket wrappers, don’t worry.”

“But the house is a horrible mess!”

“No buts, I am hungry and I have to prepare breakfast for us, go make yourself decent.”

David very slowly places the little pieces of trash back on the coffee table before turning around and heading to the staircase. He stops at the bottom of the stair and looks back at the living room, where Max is already picking the plastic wrappers. David can’t contain a little smile as he goes up the stairs, taking two steps at a time.

Max picks all the trash from the living room and kitchen. By David’s incredibly neat standards the house sure looks awful, but to Max, it just looks normal. He and Chris try to keep their apartment clean and orderly but more often than not they slack a little and things like food wrappers and dirty laundry make their way into places they don’t belong. It takes less than five minutes to put David’s living room in perfect order, and the kitchen needs even less since the hot pocket diet resulted in no dishes in the sink.

Cautiously, Max opens the fridge, half expecting to find spoiled food or nothing at all. He is positively surprised when he finds milk, eggs, and other products still in perfect state. An idea forms in his mind and he rummages through the cabinets looking for the rest of the necessary ingredients. The coffee machine rumbles softly in the background.

Cooking is one of Max’s unexpected talents. He is usually too lazy to prepare full meals but once the mood hits him he makes amazing dishes with whatever ingredients he finds. Needless to say, this is a talent that Chris appreciates a lot, even if she loves to complain about her shape afterward.

Max loses track of time as he cooks. He mixes the ingredients in a bowl and goes around the kitchen until he finds a frying pan big enough for what he wants. When he finishes he sets the table with as much flair as he can considering that there isn’t much available in the house. He uses a nice tablecloth and pretty little spoons he found in the back of David’s first drawer.

“Wow, this looks amazing,” David’s voice catches Max’s attention.

The young man turns around and his heart grows lighter when he sees David coming to the kitchen with a shaven clean face and his hair clean and neatly parted to the side as he uses it now. He is wearing the old Camp Campbell shirt and track pants, loose and comfortable but clean. There is even a little skip to his steps like he used to have when he was younger.

“Yes, it looks good,” Max says, eyes still on David. The older man blushes.

Max sits down at the table and David quickly follows suit. There is a big pot of coffee on one side of the table, sugar and milk by its side. A jar of honey, some butter and jam are arranged near the other end, and a big pile of pancakes waits for them at the center of the table. The smell rises through the air with the steam still curling over the pancakes and it makes David’s mouth water.

“Max, this looks so good!” David’s stomach makes an agreeing noise.

“Well, you can eat it, you know,” Max says with a blush coloring his cheeks a little.

David smiles and drags two pancakes to his plate. He covers them with honey, making little pleased sounds as the thick liquid spreads evenly over the warm surface. Max tries to look nonchalant but he watches with attention as David cuts the first piece and brings it to his mouth.

The sound that escapes David’s mouth can only be described as a moan.

“This is so good! I never knew you could cook like this, Max!” David says enthusiastically. Max blushes to the tips of his ears.

“Thanks,” he says, almost timidly. “I used to make them for mom and Hannah.”

David stops eating, mouth full of pancake and honey. He chews thoughtfully and swallows slowly.

“I am sure they loved them,” he says with a smile. “Did your mom teach you how to make them?”

“No, I learned on a tv show,” Max shrugs. “I don’t remember which one, but it was an old lady babbling about something and cooking. It seemed easy enough and the ingredients were cheap so I decided to give it a try. The first time was awful,” he adds with a little laugh.

Max’s stare gets lost on the curls of steam rising from the pancakes. It had been a long time since he last made them, years possibly. They are deeply connected to his mother and sister, and he’s never felt like making them for anyone else. Not even Chris. He feels a ball of emotions getting stuck in his throat.

David’s hand reaches for his and squeezes it reassuringly.

“They taste perfect, and you made me very happy with them,” David says, serious but gentle. “I know you’ve made them happy too.”

Max smiles a little and finally places some pancakes on his own plate. He scoops some butter over them and waits for the heat to melt the butter before eating. They fall into an incredibly comfortable silence, surrounded by a sense of familiarity that shouldn’t exist but does for some reason.

“Do you have to work today?” David asks after a long moment. Max nods and hums an affirmative. “Oh, what time do you need to go?”

“Well, I need to be at the bar by six,” he says as he soaks the last bit of pancake in a mix of butter and honey at the bottom of his plate. “On the scooter, I can arrive there in fifteen minutes, so I can stay until around 5:45. I mean, if that’s what you want, of course.”

“I’d love it if you stayed,” David says with a little smile. “What would you like to do?”

“I thought you wanted to fix your garden,” Max says, finally plopping the final piece of pancake into his mouth.

“Yes, I want to but… are you sure this is what  _ you _ want to do today?” David tilts his head a little in a very characteristic way. “I mean, I can do this any other day, but it is not always that I can spend time with you.”

“Nah, gardening is fine.”

“This is a day full of surprises,” David says with humor. “First I learn that you like cooking, now I learn that you like gardening…”

“Well, I don’t know if I like gardening,” Max says with a frown. “I mean, I’ve never had a garden to take care of so I wouldn’t know. But I think if there is a person to pick a stupid hobby with it must be you, so I might as well try this gardening thing.”

David is oddly touched by this declaration. He feels sorry for Max never having a garden - since his childhood, David has been the responsible for the garden in his house, on his own request. Max had shared a special thing from his childhood with David, and now David wants to do the same for him.

“I hope you like it as much as I like your pancakes,” he says with a shiny smile that melts Max’s heart a little.

They finish their breakfast soon after and David quickly washed the dishes, claiming that they were his responsibility since Max had cooked. It is a little before noon when they move to the bedroom to pick David’s gardening kit.

“David, I’m not going to wear sunscreen, give up already,” Max’s voice is petulant. David has spread a thick layer of sunscreen across his own face and neck and is valiantly trying to do the same to Max. “I’m not a weak ass white guy like you, I don’t need this!”

“Max, solar radiation is dangerous for people of all origins and colors,” David chastises him. “It will dry in a minute, you won’t even notice it.”

“If I won’t notice it then it isn’t necessary,” Max crosses his arms and pouts even more. “Where is the fucking gardening kit? I want to go downstairs already!”

David sighs, defeated. He puts the sunscreen back on the bathroom cabinet and moves into the bedroom to find the gardening tools. They are stashed in a box under his bed and he carefully lifts if, both hands on the bottom to avoid any disasters.

Once in the garden, David starts to explain to Max what they need to do. Pluck the weeds, remove the dead leaves and flowers, water, rearrange some vases in order to get more or less sunlight. Max is impressed with how many things are necessary to keep a garden beautiful.

“I don’t own a lawnmower,” David says at the end of his explanation. “I normally borrow one from Gwen’s parents but, understandably, I don’t have it now.”

Max nods and looks down at the box. “So, what do you want me to do?”

“Plucking the weeds is the most boring activity, so I can do this,” David says reaching into to box to take a pair of gardening scissors and giving them to Max. “You can go over the flower beds and cut the dead and brown leaves and flowers. They are a burden to the plant because they still consume energy but don’t produce any.” David explains and points at the flower beds.

“Just cut?” Max asks, trying the scissors and finding them unexpectedly hard to close.

“Yes, if they are dying or dead you can just… zip… cut them off!”

“Okay…” Max turns away and goes to his designated task,

David soon starts to sing softly as he goes around the garden plucking the weeds and making sure that the walking path is perfectly clean and aligned. In the first moment Max doesn’t recognize the song but after a while, he realizes it is the Camp Campbell anthem. He snorts.

“I can’t believe you still remember this song,” he says with a teasing grin.

“I might be away from Camp Campbell but Camp Campbell will never be away from me,” David says, all too proudly.

Max laughs. “Loser,” he says, fondly.

“Max, may I ask you why you decided to go to Camp Campbell when you were a kid?” David asks, carefully. “I mean, you enrolled yourself but you were always trying to run away. I don’t understand.”

David looks at Max who is staring intently at a half-opened marigold bud. The younger man seems focused on the flower but his eyes are far away. David is about to apologize when Max finally speaks.

“I wanted to go away for a while,” he says, slowly, as if choosing the words is a delicate task. “My father had died just a few months prior and mom was dating Ron, I felt like I would go crazy if I had stayed home during vacations. I found a Camp Campbell pamphlet on a grocery store near Ron’s house and suggested it to my mother and she accepted.”

“But why did you try to escape?”

“Because if I stayed then at the end of the summer they would go back there and pick me and I’d go back to that hell,” Max says bluntly. “I wasn’t even that surprised when they didn’t show up at Campbell’s parent’s night bullshit. Honestly, I was kinda wishing they had forgotten me and I could be taken to a foster home or whatever.”

“Max…” David says softly.

“Of course, when they did show up on the following morning and I learned that my mom was pregnant I immediately decided to stay by her side and protect her and the baby,” Max adds. “I don’t even like to think about what could’ve happened to them if I had escaped. They’d be alone with Ron and…” he shivers and lets go of the half-opened marigold to a dying one next to it. He cuts the dry and limp flower and tosses it on the ground at his feet.

“You really love your sister,” David says, awed. Max had been willing to live in a foster home just to get away from Ron, but he stuck to his mother’s side just to be able to protect Hannah. Max has always been much more generous and selfless than he liked to show, and David’s heart clenches as he thinks about the courage of a ten-year-old boy doing this for his sister.

“I do,” Max says softly. “She is the most important person for me.”

“I hope I get to meet her one day,” David says with a genuine smile on his face. Max looks at him.

“So do I,” Max replies, allowing David’s smile to rub off on him a little.

They go back to work. David soon starts to sing again, but this time it is some pop song that Max has heard before at the bar but doesn’t really know the lyrics for. When Max finishes removing the dead flowers and leaves from the flowerbeds the sun is high in the sky and there is a thick layer of sweat covering his back and neck.

“Hey, David, may I take off my shirt?” Max asks, wiping his brow on his forearm.

“Hmm, sure?” David replies, confused. “Why are you asking?”

“I don’t know,” Max shrugs and quickly removes his shirt, using it to dry some of the sweat accumulating across his collarbones. “Maybe you have some pudic neighbors or something.”

David laughs a little. He has seen Max naked before but it is a sight he never tires of. The play of muscles under the dark skin is beautiful under any circumstances but it is breathtaking under the direct sunlight. Shadows and highlights seem to sculpt Max’s form, sharp and soft at the same time. David licks his lips, distractedly.

It is difficult to go back to the task of fixing the garden but David soldiers on. Max starts to move the vases around, according to David’s instructions. Curiously, the cilantro by Christine’s scooter is the only plant that remains in place. Together they finish cleaning and watering the whole garden a little after three in the afternoon.

“Ugh, I need a shower,” David says as they climb upstairs once again, Max behind him carrying the box of tools.

“That makes two of us,” the younger man says, huffing with effort.

David takes the box from Max’s hands and places it back under the bed. When he turns around he doesn’t find Max in the bedroom, and he is about to call for him when the sound of the shower running informs him of his location.

“Max?” David peeks into the bathroom. Max is in front of the mirror, earth smudged on his face and hands, and tiny leaves stuck on his hair. And a red and angry sunburn across his nose, cheeks and the top of his shoulders.

“What the fuck?!”

David can’t decide if he wants to laugh at Max or comfort him. He finally opts for the second one, but when he touches Max’s shoulder instead of comfort he just makes the younger man flinch and hiss a little.

“Fuck,” Max groans, poking his own face and cringing in pain.

“I told…”

“Don’t you dare,” Max cuts David with a glare and a pout. Davis once again feels the urge to laugh.

“Ok, I’m not saying anything,” David puts his hands up in defeat. “You should take a cold shower, though, it will help alleviate the burning sensation.”

“I will,” Max says and he removes his pants slowly, careful not to bump into anything around.

“I think I have some lotion on the cabinets,” David informs. “Let me take a look…”

Max’s hand quickly closes around David’s wrist, keeping him in place.

“Take a shower with me?”

“But the lotion?”

“We can look for it later,” Max says. “I missed being close to you. Please let’s take a shower together.”

David softens immediately. There is just no way to say no to this. He nods and extricates his hand from Max’s grip in order to remove his own clothes. Due to the combination of shirt and sunscreen David’s skin is as pale and fresh looking as it has ever been, the natural contrast with Max’s dark complexion even more pronounced now.

They slip into the shower stall, the water running cold and fresh over their bodies. Max groans, a little in pain, a little in relief as the cool cascade washes over his heated skin. Despite the temperature of the water, David can feel how hot Max’s skin is when they press close together in the small space.

“Would you like me to wash your back?”

“Very carefully, yes,” Max says, resting his forehead on the cool tiles.

“Of course,” David pours some body wash on his hand and works it into a thick, foamy state. Carefully he washes Max’s shoulders and neck, running gentle fingers down his sides and his spine. Max makes small, happy noises as David washes him.

David washes Max’s hair as well, the texture of the curls pleasant against his fingers and so different from his own hair. Once David finishes with Max’s hair and back he starts to wash his own body and Max does the same. When they are completely clean David steps out of the shower and starts to dry his hair, he is halfway through it when he realizes Max is still in the stall.

“Max? Are you not coming out of the shower?”

“My skin is too hot,” the younger man complains. “It is cool and nice here, I don’t want to leave.”

David snorts a little laugh. Max might be an adult but he can be so adorably childish sometimes…

“Come here, I’ll help you dry and then we’ll use some of that lotion on your back and you’ll feel better.”

“Find the lotion first,” Max groans and David rolls his eyes but smiles as he does as requested.

“Here it is,” David says after a moment. “It has aloe vera in the formula.”

“And?”

“Well, aloe vera is very good for burns, it will soothe your skin quickly.”

The shower stops running and Max finally steps out of the stall, his hair flat against his forehead and neck and a miserable look on his face. David welcomes him with his softest towel and gently pats him dry enough to apply the lotion.

The fresh smell of aloe vera fills the air as David applies a generous amount of lotion across Max’s back, his neck and shoulders, and finally his cheeks and the tip of his nose. Max’s eyes are almost closed during the process.

“It is early,” David says, gently guiding Max out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. “Would you like to take a nap?”

“Yes,” Max says, sleepily. Gardening is surprisingly hard, and since he is not used to physical activities during the day the sun had really drained him of his energy. Add this to all the emotional charge of the last two weeks and you have the perfect cocktail for a sleepy Max. David smiles tenderly as he guides Max to the bed.

“Wake me up at five?” Max half asks half demands.

“Sure,” David replies, taking his phone and setting an alarm just in case. “Do you want some water, Max?”

Silence.

“Max?”

A little rumbling noise informs him that Max has already fallen asleep.

David watches Max for a long moment. The slow rise and fall of his back, the subtle movement of his eyes under his closed lids, the way his tongue peeks out of his mouth just a little bit. He can be just so sweet as he can be infuriating and alluring. David is smiling, something that hadn’t happened in the last two weeks.

_You are a good person, and you deserve to be happy._ Gwen had told him this in this same bedroom, not even twenty hours ago. At that time he couldn’t believe her. Happiness seemed so far and impossible at that time, but now it seems to overflow from within him. Max makes a little noise in his sleep and David feels his smile widening for some unfathomable reason.

On the previous night, being happy seemed to be impossible. Now, it seems to be a natural state. Like honey on pancakes or cilantro in big clay vases.


	16. Moth and Cocoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All aboard the Feels Train, with stops at Fluff, Smut and Poorly-Timed Phone Calls ;)

Soft kisses and murmurs wake Max up. He groans a little and buries his face in the pillow which prompts more kisses to rain upon his shoulders.

“Max, it is time to wake up,” David’s voice is soft and this time it is accompanied by a hand lightly shaking Max’s shoulder.

Max turns his head and grumbles something unintelligible and David laughs a little at him.

“C’mon Max, you asked me to wake you up.”

“I’m up,” Max says and this time it is possible to understand his garbled words.

“How do you feel?” David asks, hand very lightly touching Max’s shoulder.

The younger man brings a hand to his own neck and rubs the burnt skin a little. He hums, appreciatively.

“It doesn’t hurt as much as before,” he says. “It’s still dry and kinda itchy, but it’s not burning so badly.”

“That is good,” David smiles. “I think the extra layers of aloe vera helped.”

“Extra?”

“Oh, yes, I applied some more lotion on your back while you were sleeping,” David says, blushing a little. “I had two weeks worth of emails and messages to deal with so I couldn’t sleep. And since I was here I thought it would be good to reapply the lotion a few times.”

Max sits on the bed, the picture of domesticity with his hair in complete disarray and so casually naked on David’s presence. The older man is sitting in front of him with a curious expression on his face. Max stares at him for some time and without saying a word he leans in and gently kisses him. David seems surprised by the kiss and a little shocked noise escapes his lips before he quickly melts against Max’s lips.

David’s hand cradles the side of Max’s face gently and he is about to deepen the kiss when Max pulls apart. Max licks his reddened lips and smirks at David as he sits back on the edge of the bed.

“Hey, what day is today?” Max asks and it takes David a few seconds to piece his simple question together and think of the answer.

“Hmm, it’s Tuesday?” David replies, suddenly uncertain about it.

“Perfect!”

Max jumps out of the bed and goes to the bathroom, leaving a confused David sitting in the bedroom. David listens to Max rummaging through his things in the bathroom and to the little beeps of his phone being used. The younger man appears in the doorway and casually leans against it as he looks for something on his phone.

“Here it is,” Max murmurs as he clicks a number on his contact list and brings the phone to his ear.

There is silence in the room for a few moments while Max waits in the line and David curiously watch him from the bed. David hears it when a female voice finally picks up the call, but he can’t quite decipher what she is saying.

“Hello, Sister Meredith, how are you?” Max asks showing very little interest in his question. “This is Maximilian, I want to talk to Hannah, please.” Max goes silent for a while as Sister Meredith replies. “What do you mean she is in class? Classes finish at five and it is five and a quarter already. If this is an extracurricular activity it can wait.”

Max’s expression sours very fast as he speaks to Sister Meredith. He slowly walks back into the room, frustration growing with each step. Once he is within reach, David takes his free hand on his own and gently kisses his knuckles in a placating manner.

“Yes, I can wait, thank you very much,” Max sounds incredibly ungrateful for someone saying the words ‘ _ thank you very much _ ’, but at least his expression relaxes a little.

Max leans down to kiss David’s forehead as he waits in the line. David tries to lure him in for a real kiss but before he succeeds Max smiles widely and straightens up.

“Hannah-bear!” He exclaims on the phone, voice sweet and soft. “How are you? Oh, really? That’s very cool.”

David can only listen half of the conversation and he quickly gets lost on it, but he can’t stop watching Max as he talks to his sister on the phone. His entire face is open, his reactions to her words are unguarded and genuine. When he smiles it goes all the way up his eyes, when he frowns it brings his eyebrows low and sharp. When he laughs David feels his own chest bubbling in reply.

He realizes he could easily spend hours watching Max.

“There is a person I’d like you to meet,” Max says and this finally catches David’s attention. “Do you think you can speak with him on the phone? It’s a friend.” Hannah says something that makes Max pout. “It’s not Christine, I have other friends, dammit.”

David can hear Hannah laughing despite being far from the phone.

“I don’t want to force you, but it would make me happy if you talked to him a little bit. He is nice, I promise.”

David is sitting at the very edge of the bed now, full of apprehension. When Max smiles and offers him the phone he feels like exploding. He can’t help but feel nervous about it. Hannah is the most important person in Max’s life and he can’t screw it up with her. His stomach is in knots as he remembers how difficult it was to connect with Max when he was her age. David swallows dryly and brings the phone to his ear.

“Hi, Hannah,” he says with less than half of the enthusiasm he planned to use. “My name is David, how are you?”

“Hi, David,” Hannah’s voice is a little high-pitched but not unpleasantly so, and she sounds just as unsure as him. “I am fine, and you?”

“I am very well, thanks,” he replies politely. “How was your weekend?”

“Oh, it was very good!” A sudden burst of energy seems to emanate from the phone. “Barbarella finally left her cocoon.”

“Who is Barbarella?” David asks and looks at Max with a confused face. Max just shrugs and sits back on the bed.

“Barbarella was a caterpillar, but now she is a moth,” Hannah explains patiently. “I thought she would be a butterfly but it turns out she is a moth but I love her anyway. She is living in the inner garden now.”

“Do you like butterflies?”

“I love butterflies! But I love moths, and dragonflies, and ladybugs too.” Hannah makes a pensive pause. “I love all the bugs. The other girls don’t like them, I always have to save them.”

“Save the girls?”

“No! Pay attention, David,” Hannah chastises him. “I have to save the bugs from the other girls. The girls don’t need to be saved, they are way bigger than the bugs.”

David feels an uncontrollable wave of affection taking him over.

“You are a brave girl, I am sure the bugs are grateful,” he says with a smile. “What else do you like, Hannah?”

“I like to play kickball and paint, and take naps after lunch,” Hannah enumerates. “And I like to read in front of the class because the teacher always compliments me, and sing in the choir.”

“That’s a lot of interests,” David comments.

“Yes, Mili says I have to take all the opportunities here.”

“Mili?”

“My brother,” Hannah says matter-of-factly.

David turns to face Max and finds him hiding his face on the pillows and groaning loudly.

“What do you call him?”

“Max,” David answers with simplicity. Hannah makes a dismissive noise.

“But everybody calls him Max,” she says.

“Yes,” David agrees. “Is it bad that I call him Max too?”

“I don’t know,” Hannah hums, thoughtfully. “Maybe? You are special, you should have a special name for him too.”

“Why do you say this?”

“Because he rarely talks about his friends, and he never asks me to talk to other people. He must like you a lot.”

“Well, I know I do,” David replies, grateful that Max is hearing only his side of the conversation.

“Are you Mili’s boyfriend?”

David chokes on thin air and splutters pathetically for a few seconds before he can take a deep breath and recompose himself. Max eyes him suspiciously but says nothing.

“I don’t know?” David finally answers and Hannah grunts in reply.

“David, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“If Mili comes to see me on my birthday, can you come with him?”

“When is it?”

“Next month, on the thirteenth,” she informs dutifully.

“I’ll do my best.”

“Thanks! Oh… wait,” Hannah’s voice sounds distant, as if she is covering the mouthpiece with her hand. David distantly hears Sister Meredith’s voice. After a while, Hannah speaks to him again. “I am sorry, I have to go now. Tell Mili I love him, and come see me on my birthday.”

“I will,” David says.

“I liked you,” Hannah says without preamble. “Bye, David.”

Before he can reply the line goes mute.

Slowly David hits the red button on the screen to make sure the call is finished, and he places the phone on the nightstand. Max watches him with a touch of curiosity on his face.

“She likes bugs!” David finally says, and his voice comes a bit squeaky.

“Yes, she does,” Max agrees with an easy smile.

“She seems to be amazing, Max,” David says, smiling back at the younger man as he sits on the bed by Max’s side.

“She is the best,” Max says, full of affection. David nods in agreement and Max can’t help but smile wider. “But you come second,” he adds, nonchalantly.

“Max…” David’s chest feels about to burst and he reaches across the bed to pull Max in into a kiss. Max comes willingly, and he replies to the kiss with soft noises.

Max is still soft and warm from his nap and he relaxes wholly in David’s arms. Their lips meet and brush lazily as David’s hands caress Max’s face and carefully slide down his shoulders. David’s head is light with affection and pleasure, he keeps smiling into the kiss. As they kiss they shift and move in the bed until MAx is completely laying down and David is leaning on his elbows over him.

“David?” Max calls him lazily between little licks to the wet inseam of David’s lips.

“Yes?”

“If you don’t stop kissing me like this we’ll have a situation here,” Max says and rolls his hips up to show that his cock, which had been flaccid all the afternoon, is quickly swelling with interest now.

David gasps a little when he feels the growing firmness press against his leg. When he looks down he sees that Max’s eyes are a little glazed and his lips are red and slightly swollen, his sunburned nose hides his blush a little but it is easy to see how affected he is.

“Let me remedy this  _ situation _ ,” David says and his hand reaches down to grope and fondle Max, causing the younger man to moan.

“Fuck…” Max curses softly, head thrown back as David rubs his thumb around the head of his cock.

David laughs a little at Max’s reaction and starts to pump him with some more purpose. Max’s cock fills out with every movement, a dribble of precum gather on the slit and slide down the shaft, wetting David’s fingers and reducing the friction somewhat.

For a long moment, Max just lays there, eyes shut and lips opened as David slowly jerks him off. He is happy, David’s bed is so comfortable and David is so generous on his caresses that Max wants to just enjoy it for a moment. David leans down to kiss him some more and when he does so Max feels the older man’s own erection pressing down on him.

The shape of David’s cock is heavy and hard as it presses on Max’s thigh and it prompts Max to finally move.

“Clothes. Off,” he demands, petulantly pawing at David’s track pants until David slides them down his legs and tosses them aside. The shirt comes off a moment later and Max leans up to kiss and nibbles at David’s exposed chest. When Max runs his hands down David’s sides he is surprised to feel how prominent his ribs are now that he’s lost some weight.

David straddles Max’s hips and starts to rut against him, their cocks rubbing on the reduced space between them.

“Hey, Max, can I ride you?” David asks, breathless, and his words hit Max like a freight train.

“Fuck… yes….” he manages to answer despite the dryness on his throat and the thundering of his heart.

David kisses him once more, this time he is all enthusiasm and teeth and tongue. Max is completely absorbed by the way David’s tongue slide against him and how it teases the edges of his lips, soothing the little bites and sucks that punch drunk moans out of him.

As they kiss Max feels David moving around a little, stretching his arm to reach for the nightstand. The younger man hears as David blindly searches into the drawer for the lube and he smiles at the triumphant little noise David emits when he finds what he’s looking for.

David pulls away and sits more firmly on Max’s thighs, their cocks close together but not pressed alongside one another anymore. Max immediately misses the heat and pressure of it.

“Come closer,” Max asks, rubbing his thumbs over David’s thighs. “I want to prepare you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, please!” Max groans and tugs David’s legs up impatiently. “Let me touch you.”

David pops the lube open and gives the bottle to Max as he moves further up the younger man’s chest. He doesn’t sit back, staying on his knees he leaves plenty of space for Max to touch and work on him. Max quickly covers his fingers in lube and wastes no time reaching down, past David’s cock and balls until he can rub a careful fingertip around the older man’s rim.

Max looks up at David, sweat shines on his pale skin and his eyes are heavy-lidded, his pupils wide. David licks his lips, expectantly, and Max follows the movement with rapt attention. They seem frozen in time for a moment. David nods, tiny and quick, and it is all Max needs before he continues moving.

David whines softly as Max’s finger enters him. The angle is not perfect but it is so good to be face to face, to see and listen each other so clearly and closely like that. David’s eyelashes look like tiny rays of sunshine from this close, the yellow light coming from the window reflects on them every time David blinks and Max is entranced by them.

They don’t kiss again, the angle doesn’t quite allow for it. They just continue looking at each other, sharing fleeting smiles and breathing the charged air of the room, breaths hot and shallow. When Max slides a second finger in David makes such a soft sound Max wouldn’t have heard it if they were two inches further apart. Max loves that sound.

Max opens David diligently. His fingers glide in and out with wet little noises and he makes sure to rub David’s prostate just enough to keep him on the edge, but never enough to tip him down the precipice. David is shaking, thighs trembling with the effort of holding up as Max fingers him open, his breathing is broken and fast as he feels closer and closer to the end.

“I am good now,” he murmurs, eyes shining with desire and despair. “I’m ready.”

Max leans up and this time he steals a kiss while his free hand tries, in vain, to reach into the drawer and pick a condom. David takes pity on him and he pulls away to properly search and retrieve the condom. When he finds it, Max’s hands are gripping his hips in a valiant attempt at staying still.

David opens the foil and quickly rolls the condom on Max’s erected cock. Just to err on the good side, David squeezes more lube on it and Max groans a little as the cold substance covers his erection.

“Sorry,” David apologizes softly and he pumps Max’s cock a few times to warm the lube up and bring him back to full hardness before he moves into position and finally starts to press down onto Max’s erection.

They groan in unison as David slowly accepts more and more of Max inside him. Max had prepared him well, there is no pain in the process, but it is a tight fit and David simply enjoys the first breach too much to rush this. Max is panting by the time David finally sits on the cradle of his hips.

David’s head is loose on his shoulders as he takes deep breathes. Max holds David’s slim waist and he notices that if his hands were just a bit larger he might be able to completely envelop David’s midriff with only his hands. The thought makes his head light.

Slowly, David begins to move. His legs are somewhat shaky but he doesn’t seem to mind. The pleasure of Max’s cock sliding so deliciously inside him is more than enough reward, he can endure some mild fatigue on his legs for this. Max seems to notice his struggle and soon the hands on David’s waist begin to actively lift him up and pull him down, assisting David on the joyous task of riding Max.

“Oh, this is good. You’re so good!” David babbles, seemingly incapable of not doing so. His voice is thin but charged with desire, affection and something that is difficult to identify. David’s words morph into whimpers and moans, his hands resting heavily on Max’s chest as he looks for more support.

“David…” Max groans as the older man’s nails bite into his skin.

“I missed you so much,” David whispers and Max isn’t sure he was supposed to hear that, but he does.

The younger man finally understands what is the unnamed emotion hiding in plain sight on David’s voice. Gratitude. David is grateful to have Max back, he is thankful that Max has forgiven him and accepted him back. Max’s own chest fills with the feeling as he finally recognizes it.

“I missed you, too,” he says, sitting up to hug David, and effectively driving his cock a little further into the older man in the process.

David immediately reacts by wrapping both arms and legs around Max, trapping the young man in a cocoon of long limbs that Max doesn’t want to get free from anytime soon.

“I missed you so much,” Max repeats, burying his face on David’s neck and peppering kisses on the hollow of his throat.

“Don’t leave me again,” David asks, voice garbled and hands gripping Max’s sunburned shoulders in a vice-like grip. “Please.”

“I won’t, I won’t,” Max replies, his own voice cracking as he feels tears threatening to form in his eyes.

At this point, they don’t have a rhythm anymore. They just hold and rut and grind against each other, their emotions running haywire as their bodies march to their completion.

When Max comes it is not a world-shattering experience, but he feels like a wave is running over him. Not a violent tidal wave that leaves him wrecked and breathless; but a new type of tide, one that is gentle as much as it is powerful. He holds David as close as possible when he feels the warmth and satisfaction washing over him, unraveling his feelings and leaving him open.

“Max…” David mewls softly, nudging Max with his nose until the younger man looks up at him. There are tiny tears clinging to the sunrays of David’s eyelashes but he is smiling, open and genuine.

Max looks up at him and David kisses him. Softly. Really, incredibly soft. Max kisses back as gently as he can, lips trying to convey what he isn’t sure he can with his voice. Fortunately, David seems to understand him.

“I’m getting sensitive,” David says in the middle of their kisses. Max pulls away a little and is surprised to see that David’s hand and stomach are covered in cum. “I just wanted to release some tension so I could last longer but it was so good that when I realized I was coming all over myself,” David says, embarrassed and blushing, when he notices the direction of Max’s eyes.

Max smiles up at him, a fuzzy and comfortable feeling overtaking his chest as he caresses David’s sweat damp hair. David closes his eyes when Max’s thumbs rub across the high arch of his cheeks. Max wants to touch his copper eyelashes, shining under the dying sunlight as they are now, but he refrains.

Slowly, David disentangles his legs and arms from around him and Max helps him get up and off of him. David groans when Max’s cock slips out of him, a mix of relief and frustration. Max pulls him back closer in order to kiss him one more time.

They sit comfortably on the bed, sharing little kisses and nuzzling at each other for a while. Max’s fingers draw random shapes on David’s leg as they continue to just enjoy each other in comfortable proximity. When Max looks into David’s soft eyes he can’t control his words.

“David,” his voice is soft but steady. “I really l….”

An explosion of loud pop music interrupts him. His phone rings, loud and frantic with Christine’s designated ringtone. Fuck. David looks at the phone with curiosity and when he sees Christine’s picture on the screen he quickly gives the phone to Max.

“MAXIMILIAN WHERE ARE YOU?” David doesn’t need to have the phone by his ear to hear this. He snorts a little laugh at Max’s unperturbed expression.

“Hello to you too, Christine,” Max replies in a deadpan that makes David laugh a little more.

Christine keeps talking and David places a soft kiss on Max’s forehead before rolling out of the bed and going to the bathroom. He needs a shower and maybe a nap after his intense orgasm. He doesn’t remember the last time sex felt this good. His first time with Max had been great but it is different now. He felt so wanted and complete, he thinks he’s never felt like that before.

“I am sorry, I’ve got to go,” Max cuts his introspection and David turns around to see him already tugging his pants on. “Chris is about to punch someone in the face if I don’t go to the bar now. I wanted her to punch Ivan but I’m afraid it will be me, so I need to go there and calm her down.”

David smiles at him.

“It is okay,” he takes the lotion from the cabinet and gives it to Max. “Apply some more before going to bed, I think you’ll feel better in two or three days.”

“Thanks,” Max leans in to kiss David. “Will you go to the bar again?”

“Do you want me to?”

Max rolls his eyes and places a quick kiss on David’s nose. “Of course, loser. There is a new performance, Christine is really proud of it, she would like it if you watched us. I would too,” he adds as an afterthought.

“So, I will.”

“Today?”

David snorts and shakes his head.

“I’m afraid not, sorry,” he says with a frown. “I really need to put my life in order after these two weeks of…” he trails off but Max doesn’t force him to complete his phrase.

“I get it, don’t worry,” he assures him with a smile. “How about Friday?”

“Friday is good,” David says, a smile returning to his face.

“Okay, so I see you on Friday.”

“Is it a date?” David asks with a playful smirk.

“It better fucking be, because I’ll be wearing nice clothes and full of expectations,” Max says with no real heat to his words.

“I won’t disappoint you,” David says, playfully, and he makes the Camp Campbell salute as if to prove how serious he is.

Max smiles softly at him.

“I know you won’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is 5 am and I'm not proofreading this now, so bear with my mistakes for a few hours until I am a human being again tomorrow and have enough energy to do it <3


	17. Groceries and Dancing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what??!  
> I've received another lovely piece of fanart! This time the sweet [Auroratheharpist9](https://www.instagram.com/auroratheharpist9/) created an [incredibly cute art](https://www.instagram.com/p/BcIQfdRlH4c/) for one of the saddest scenes of this fic. Go check it out and give it some love <3

David’s heart is full of a pleasant, soft feeling as he listens to Max stumbling down the stairs and going away on Christine’s little pink scooter. He looks at himself in the mirror, hair messy and sweat still glistening slightly on his blushing skin. Oh, how much did he miss being himself… He has left so many things unattended in the last week, both private and professional matters, and he is more than ready to tackle these issues.

First of all, he needs a shower, then some food and after those, he has a list of things to do. While Max was taking his nap David has gone through some emails and personal messages, some he’s already answered but some still require his attention. He also wants to talk to Gwen, she will be happy to know things worked out fine between Max and him, she seemed so worried when she visited him the other night.

But, most important of all, he needs to think of a good birthday gift for Hannah. She hadn’t asked for gifts, only that Max and he visit her, but he really wants to surprise her with a nice present. He doesn’t even know her but he already feels a connection with her. Maybe all the love she and Max clearly have for each other is already rubbing off on him. Maybe he could ask Gwen for some tips on this matter too.

Feeling full of energy for the first time in two weeks, David finally moves on to the shower to get cleaned and start working on his priorities.

***

“Damn it, Max! Why are you so late? I lent you the scooter for a reason, you ass,” Christine complains as soon as Max enters the changing room at the bar. Tuesday is not a particularly busy day at the Fruit Bowl, but it just so happens that on that Tuesday they have a big bachelor’s party and Christine was counting on Max to perform the opening number.

“I am sorry,” Max grumbles, tossing her the scooter keys. “I lost track of time, okay? “

Christine looks at him from head to toe and Max raises his chin and faces her scrutiny in silent defiance. Much to his surprise, after a moment of just staring at him her expression softens somehow.

“Did you fix things up with him?” She asks, full of expectative.

The tension drains from Max’s body and he smiles at her, relieved and light. “Yes.”

Christine smiles at him, her own heart growing lighter when she sees his smile. Max had been quite miserable for these last days and it hurt her not having anything to do to help him. She has talked to him, given him advice and metaphorically slapped him in an attempt to bring him back to his senses but none of her tactics had any effect. She was really surprised that morning when Max asked for her scooter and told her he was going to see David.

“I am so happy it all worked out, Maxy,” she says and Max’s smile turns even bigger. “But don’t think I’ve forgiven you for being late. You are doing the lap dance tonight as punishment.”

“What?! Chris, I hate the lap dance,” Max whines, good humor gone in a flash.

“I know,” she replies with simplicity. “But James took your place on the opening, it is just fair that you take his on the lap dance.”

Max groans loudly but he can’t argue with that logic. He doesn’t like lap dancing, things either get awkward or too charged and he simply prefers to keep his distance from the clients. He doesn’t mind dancing on the other performances, and sex with clients isn’t an issue either, but the lap dance is some odd mix of public and private and he just feels out of place doing it.

“When is it?”

“The girls are on the poles now, and after this, the guest had brought some little prizes and we will make a quiz with them,” Christine says, counting on her fingers. “I think you have half an hour.”

“Good,” Max says, taking his shirt off. “That gives me some time to shower and I really need to eat something too.”

Christine raises an eyebrow.

“Max, baby, why the fuck are you looking like a shrimp down your neck?”

Max’s face turns as red as his sunburnt back.

“Because I was shirtless on a fucking sunny day, Christine, why else would I be?”

Her eyebrow raises even higher. “And why pray tell, were you shirtless under direct sunlight?”

“Because I was helping David fix his damned garden,” Max all but screeches, embarrassment shining on his face. “That is fucking why.”

Christine stops moving for a whole five seconds.

“You went to David’s house to talk to him and ask for forgiveness and fix things up,” she says very slowly. “And you ended up fixing his garden shirtless?”

“We talked before it, okay? We’ve set thing back to normal and ate and then he asked me what I wanted to do and I said I wanted to work in his garden.”

Christine bursts into laughter.

“Oh my god, Max! Why the fuck would you ask to work in his garden? You don’t even like nature.”

“The garden is important to him,” Max replies, softly, the fight gone from him at the memory of David’s smile while he explained to Max what he needed to do on the garden.

Christine’s laughter dies and Max looks up to meet her eyes. Her face is making some impressive acrobatics to be so fond and snarky at the same time.

“You are so in love with him,” she says, teasing him with her words, but her eyes are soft and she is smiling sweetly.

“I… what… no.. pffff,” Max splutters angrily. “Fuck you, Christine, I need food and if you want me to drape myself across some loser’s lap tonight I also need a shower.”

“Because you were too busy gardening with your boyfriend to get ready to work on time?”

Max groans in frustration, hands thrown up and eyes rolling a full circle. Christine can’t control her giggles at his reaction and he just grows more frustrated.

“I’m fucking leaving, bitch,” he says, bitterly, and slips past her to go to the shower. She slaps him, hard, on the reddened skin of his back as he passes by and he yelps in pain as she quickly scuttles away and far from his fury.

***

Max had used the last of David’s milk and eggs to prepare their late breakfast pancakes, but David only notices it when he is about to prepare dinner himself. It is still early, about six in the evening when David gets off the shower, fresh and clean and full of energy. With his food stock low, he slips on some shoes and takes a walk down the few blocks to the nearest grocery store.

“Hi, David,” the owner greets him from the fruit stand he is organizing. “Haven’t seen you lately.”

“I wasn’t feeling well, Mr. Ferguson” David replies, looking at the apples and oranges the man is lining up with utmost care.

“Oh, poor boy,” Mr. Ferguson, old and grey and with smile lines around his lips and eyes tuts slowly. “I take it you are feeling better now?”

“Yes, I am, thanks for your concern,” David smiles and the old man smiles in reply.

David continues shopping unhurriedly. There is a small freezer full of hot pockets and frozen meals at the corner of the store but David steers clear of it. His days of hot pockets are gone. He fills his basket with fresh eggs, milk, a piece of cheese and some ham, carrots, and tomatoes and some of the apples Mr. Ferguson had been organizing with so much care and love.

“Gregory said you were sick,” Mrs. Ferguson comments as she packs David’s purchase in dark brown paper bags. “Did you have the flu?”

“No, Mrs, Ferguson,” David says, taking the bags with a smile. “I had an ugly discussion with someone who is very important to me. I was feeling bad after it, but today we’ve made peace with one another.”

Mrs. Ferguson smiles at him, relieved to know that one of their dearest clients is okay. Suddenly, her sweet smile turns a little devious.

“Is the cute garden boy the one important person for you?”

David splutters and stammers some half-formed words, blushing as his shopping bags almost slip from his arms. Mrs. Ferguson hides her little laughs behind a wrinkled hand but her eyes are mirthful when she touches David’s hand in a placating manner.

“Don’t worry, dear, I am teasing you. Allow an old woman some fun,” she says, smile fading into a more neutral expression. “If this boy is important to you I am happy that you have made peace. Gregory and I have our fair share of discussions but in forty years we never gave up on making peace.”

David looks at her, the seriousness of her advice sinking in. He had always thought that Mr. and Mrs. Ferguson were a really cute old couple but he’d never stopped to consider what kind of problems they might have. He’d assumed none considering their age and how long they’ve been together. To know that they also have problems but still have such a long and happy relationship feels like an epiphany. David smiles.

“I’ll never give up on him,” David says, a soft blush rising on his cheeks.

“You’re a good boy, David,” Mrs. Ferguson says sweetly. “Bring your garden boy here someday so I can take a better look at him.”

“I will, Mrs. Ferguson.”

David leaves the grocery store feeling a little embarrassed but light nonetheless. He feels oddly proud to have old Mrs. Ferguson’s approval, and he realizes he’d like to actually bring Max to meet her someday. _ It is almost like bringing my boyfriend home to meet my parents _ , David thinks with a little shake of his head.

He stops dead in his tracks.

Is Max my boyfriend?

Before the incident with Gwen and all of this, David had been sure that Max liked him, at least enough to appreciate his company and enjoy sex with him, but with their fight and those two weeks apart it is difficult to measure at what level their relationship is anymore. Surely, Max had come to his house on his own, and they both apologized and had a delightful day together. The pancakes, taking care of the garden, talking to Hannah on the phone, and the sex afterward, all of these were basically perfect for David and he aches to have more of these domestic moments with Max.

If he was being honest with himself, and David usually is, he would love to have Max as his official boyfriend. Once this statement is out there in the open space of David’s mind he quickly latches onto it and starts to consider it with more attention. His own will is clear now, but he can’t help but wonder about Max’s feelings on the matter. Would he accept David as his boyfriend, or would he dismiss his proposal? Anxiety begins to gnaw at David’s mind and he has to take a deep breath to avoid a crisis on the street.

David arrives home with a light sheen of sweat on his forehead and his heart beating heavily on his chest. This is becoming a problem. He is turning it into a problem. The rational part of his mind knows exactly what to do: ask Max. It is such a simple solution it sounds improbable.

“Gosh darn it, David!” He yells at himself as he unpacks his groceries. “Get a grip!”

He stuffs the eggs, milk, and ham in the fridge with more force than is really necessary and starts to chop the carrots with too much focus.

“It is easy,” he murmurs to himself. “You’ve spent years coordinating group activities and taking other person’s needs and preferences into account, you can do this. You can just go to Max and ask him if he wants to be your boyfriend. It will be easy peasy. You have an official date with him on Friday, just use your time wisely and you’ll come up with the perfect thing to say.”

David’s ramblings and mumbling continue as he cooks a simple omelet for dinner. He eats in the kitchen, the spot in front of him is empty as it usually is. He had always been a very sociable person but he’d never minded living on his own. He’s come to appreciate it, the privacy and freedom of it. However, today the house feels oddly empty. He wishes he could have Max over for dinner, repay him for the delicious pancakes and have some light conversation about their days.

_ We’d have early dinners and maybe a supper late in the night after he arrives from the club _ , David thinks idly.  _ Maybe invite Christine over sometimes, and Gwen too _ . _ And on vacations we could have Hannah over, I’m sure we could figure out a permission for her to leave the school for a while. _

His mind goes into hyperdrive as he considers all the possibilities of sharing a life with Max. When he finishes eating he is giddy with expectations and determined to have them come true. It is only Tuesday, however, and there isn’t much he can do until Friday. He gets his phone and sighs as he sees the few messages still in need of a reply. He taps the Whatsapp icon and smiles as he opens one of the chats there.

***

“Oh my darlings, what a beautiful party we have here tonight!” Strawberry Bonbon says on the microphone, voice pitched high with her enthusiasm. “Are you enjoying yourselves?”

Some clients reply with shouts of “yes”, and “more” and a small crowd of women cheer and whistle in reply. The bachelorette party is in full swing, the soon-to-be bride happily playing and drinking with her friends as Strawberry cheers and teases them from the stage.

“Unfortunately I’m afraid we’re at the last number of this lovely night,” Strawberry pouts exaggeratedly and the women make disappointed noises in reply. “But don’t worry because we saved the best for last! I would like to invite one very special guest to come here participate in this closing performance.”

The crowd yells and cheers, some of the guests already poking and teasing the future bride. Strawberry smiles, wide and bright and beckons for the young woman to join her at the stage. She climbs the little stair with a deep red blush on her cheeks, result of embarrassment and too many drinks.

“Welcome to the stage, darling,” Strawberry Bonbon says cheerfully. “Could you stay there for a moment as I call for the next number?”

The woman nods and gingerly goes to the center of the stage, right under the biggest spotlight. Her friends are all whistling and laughing and she is slowly relaxing as Strawberry makes her way around the stage.

“With no further ado, ladies and gentlemen, welcome one of our favorite treats her at The Fruit Bowl! Caramel Thunder!”

The audience claps their hands wildly as the lights suddenly go out and the big spotlight dims to a soft illumination. Music starts to pour out of the sound system around the room and a second, smaller, spotlight shines upon Caramel Thunder.

He is wearing his signature tight black leather pants and a flimsy white shirt that leaves little to the imagination. He skin glows under the indirect light, glitter and sweat making him shine. He walks down the wing of the stage in an unhurried fashion, step by step on the rhythm of the music. Behind him, he is dragging a sturdy looking wooden chair. Once he is close enough to the center of the stage he places the chair on the floor and moves around it.

The music kicks off once he is behind the chair. Caramel slides down the back of the chair until only his head can be seen over it, his hands go down the wood until they reach his knees and go back up his legs. He jumps back up with a high note of the music, his hips gyrating heavily as he runs his hands down his chest and abs.

The crowd cheers and yells and whistles, the young woman in the center of the stage watches with her mouth slightly open.

Caramel kicks his leg up high and passes it over the back of the chair, his foot land on the seat heavily and he flashes a dangerous smile to the audience. He grinds the back of the chair following the rhythm of the music and the sound of the audience reacting to his dance. He spins around and sits on the chair, his back turned to the public, legs wide apart on either side of the chair.

His hips move in a fast staccato, the muscles on his back rippling under the nearly transparent white shirt. His hands travel down his sides and with a forceful tug he rips the shirt open. The crowd shouts in response as he tosses the pieces of torn fabric away and points directly at the future bride still sweating and grinning at the center of the stage.

Caramel stands up in a fluid movement and skillfully kicks the chair so that it slides down the stage and stops perfectly in front of the young woman. He walks across the stage, hips swaying and lips smiling until he stops in front of her. He places light hands on her shoulders and she blushes when he looks at her face. His chest is heaving and his spine is undulating beautifully when the main spotlight finally lights up all the way, casting a hard white light over them.

He slides down her body, crouching by her feet as he flexes his arms and legs to show his slim but well-defined body to both the audience and her. She makes a high pitched noise of appreciation as he does so. When he stands up again he gently shoves her down onto the chair and she falls there with an audible _oof_ sound.

The woman can barely blink as Caramel sits on her lap, face to face, and starts to grind and arch his flexible body against hers. She is blushing deeply, which only encourages him to tease her further. The audience cheers and hollers in return and soon he stands up to turn around to face the public.

He slides his hands down his naked chest, nails drawing red trails on his bright skin. His fingers brush the hem of his pants, slipping under it just to tease sighs and gasps out of his audience. Despite his declared dislike for lap dancing, Max is good at it. He gauges the audience’s reactions and acts upon them, his rhythm and moves sync perfectly with the bated breaths and unconscious moans.

The song is about halfway through, so it is time to raise the stakes. Caramel’s hands dive down, low enough to cup his cock through the tight material of his pants. The audience hollers and this time when Caramel’s hands leave they bring his pants with them. The ripping sound of the hidden velcro strips releasing is muffled by the music and the euphoric cheering coming from both the audience and the woman panting on the chair.

With a casual flick of his hands, Caramel sends his pants flying across the stage. Hungry hands reach over the raised platform to snatch the pieces up.

Caramel Thunder lives up to his name if the thunderous noise that comes from the audience is anything to go by. He slides up and down the chair a few more times, his back arching in an acute angle as he looks back at the audience, head thrown back and hair falling in a cascade of black curls. The song ends with a long, wavering note and Caramel sustains the position for as long as it lasts, his chest rising and falling hard and fast. Sweat slides down his neck and pools on the hollow of his throat. When the last note of the music dies the lights go off, as suddenly as they had before the dance started.

When the lights return, Caramel is standing beside the chair, a scowl on his face as he not so gently pulls the chair back and the woman sitting on it barely avoids falling on the floor when her support was taken. He grins, his bad boy persona at its fullest, and he leaves the stage dragging the chair behind him and casually flipping off a man who continued whistling and cat-calling him after the end of the performance.

Max’s blood is pumping hard and fast in his veins, the sound of it muffling the cheerful speech Christine is giving to thank the guests for the night. He is sweating in bullets and his throat feels oddly parched. He is in dire need of another shower.

He places the chair back in the storage room where it belongs and uses the back corridor to reach the changing room without bumping into any clients or guests. Down to his boxers and boots, he doesn’t have too much to take off before slipping into the shower. Since the lap dance is the last number, all the other performers had taken their showers before Max, which means there is no more hot water for him. That is not a terrible problem, though, it is so hot and he is so sticky and gross that he would choose a cold shower anyway.

When he finishes he changes back into the sweatpants and t-shirt he’d been wearing during the day. There is a faint smell of grass and earth on his clothes and he sighs happily as he realizes it is the result of spending the day in the garden with David.

David. Max’s heart flutters pleasantly when he thinks about their afternoon on the garden, and the bright smile David gave him when he was talking to Hannah, and the way David hugged him so tightly and perfectly as the had sex that evening. With an absent-minded smile, he picks his phone from his bag. He intends on sending David a good night text but is surprised when he sees a notification blinking on the screen.

From: David   
I had a great day with you today   
I’m really looking forward to Friday

From: David   
Actually, I’m looking forward to every day I can spend with you

From: David   
Gosh, that was cheesy even for me   
I’m sorry

From: David   
However, it is absolutely true

Max bites his lip in an attempt to control the delighted and high pitched noise that is trying to escape his throat. He feels giddy when he composes a reply.

To: David   
that was ridiculously cheesy

To: David

but

To: David   
i feel exactly the same

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it took me so long to post this chapter. I was attacked by a nasty case of writer's block and only the Christmas special could save me from it. The first page of this chapter has been sitting on my docs for so many days but just today I found a good way to continue it.  
> Christmas season is upon us and it means I'll have some trouble posting in the near future, what with all the family and friends and real life stuff going on around. Hopefully, I'll have another chapter up by Christmas :)  
> Thank you so much for the continuous support and love!


	18. Support and Perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, guys! I hope you all had a good end of the year and happy whatever holidays you celebrate around December!  
> I have just returned from my holidays and I'm full of energy to continue this work this year :)
> 
> With that in mind, I created a tumblr to post this fic so you guys who use tumblr can share it, comment and like your favorite chapters, find the cool fanarts I've received, send asks and whatever you want to. If you're on tumblr, check it [here](https://caramel-and-pine.tumblr.com/) and have some fun!
> 
> And talking about fanarts, [Everglade ](https://echoofeverglade.deviantart.com/) did this sexy and fun [Caramel wearing a Camp Campbell thong!](https://echoofeverglade.deviantart.com/art/Caramel-Thunder-721250532)

“Oh fuck, be careful!”

“Quit whining, Max, I’m doing you a favor,” Christine rolls her eyes dramatically as she stops applying aloe vera cream on Max’s sunburnt shoulders.

“How come it didn’t hurt when David applied it? You’re doing it on purpose,” Max hisses between clenched teeth.

“Maybe it doesn’t hurt when David does it because he likes you more than I do,” Christine replies in a sarcastic overly sweet tone. Max goes oddly quiet at her jab.

“Chris?”

His voice shows an unusual fragility that is immediately noticed by Christine. She stops rubbing the ointment on his skin and looks at him seriously.

“What’s it, Maxy?”

“Do you think David likes me? Like… really likes?”

Christine purses her lips as Max slowly turns around to fully face her. His expression is very earnest.

“How could I know, Maxy?” She says with an apologetic smile. “I’ve seen him two or three times, but he seems like a good man and I don’t think he’d be playing you. Say, how exactly did you meet him, again?”

Max frowns, obviously discontent with her reply. He knows she can’t give any proper answers to this question but he’d like to have heard a more positive and emphatic opinion. He rubs his nose on the back of his hand.

“At a camping when I was a child.”

“You don’t look like the kind that goes camping,” Christine observes.

“I’m not,” Max shrugs. “It was a little after my dad died and mom had just started dating Ron, I wanted some peace and found a pamphlet of the camping and the rest is history.”

“And how was David back then?”

“Unbearable.” Max replies, rolling his eyes and making Christine laugh. “I am serious, the guy was a bottomless well of energy and good humor and I swear he could produce his fucking guitar out of thin air because he always had it in hands when he decided to sing the stupid camp anthem.”

“Camp anthem? Wow, that’s lame,” Christine says with a smirk.

“I know, right? It was ridiculous, just a fucking list of activities they wanted to make but never had the budget to do.”

“What activities?”

Max tries to remember the convoluted lyrics to the anthem but fails. He makes a dismissive hand gesture.

“Oh, camp stuff I guess. Hiking, sports, horse riding. Fucking arts and crafts,” he shrugs and Christine laughs a little more.

“I am a creative person but I can’t picture you doing any of these.”

“Well, I don’t think I’ve actually taken part in much of the camp activities. Normally I’d just lay back and watch shit go down.”

“And David?”

“He tried his best,” Max looks a bit embarrassed. “Now I see it, he wanted the best for Camp Campbell and the campers, unfortunately, there were many problems.”

“Including you.”

“Including me,” Max admits with a tinge of shame in his voice. Christine pats his leg comfortingly.

“Have you apologized?”

“Yes,” Max says looking a little less embarrassed. “Yesterday when I went to his house I apologized for both freaking out at him and being an asshole as a child.”

Christine watches him with a fond gaze.

“You are a good person, Max,” she says, no traces of sarcasm. “I love you and I want the best for you, and if you think David is the best for you then God help me I’ll do my best to bring that beanpole to your side.”

“I… I…” Max hesitates for a moment, deep down he knows David is good for him but putting it down in words is difficult. Christine waits patiently as he fights his inner turmoil. “I want him,” Max says at last.

“How come?”

“I want to be by his side and take care of his stupid garden and have him smearing this freaking aloe thing on me when I get sunburn, and I want to cook for him and watch old series on his couch” once he starts it is hard to stop enumerating the things he wants. “And one day I’ll get Hannah’s custody and we’ll do shit together, he loves nature and she loves bugs they could catch some ladybugs or whatever and name them after old movies neither one have watched.”

Christine is smiling adoringly at him. She’d seen Max crushing on other people before but it is different now. Max had never pictured a future with Hannah interacting so closely to someone else, even when they dated he had always been reticent when talking about his sister. But now he has an entire plan revolving around David and Hannah’s shared passion for insects and plants. It is heartwarming if she’s being honest.

“See, was it so difficult to be honest with yourself?” Christine asks, sweet but sarcastic. Max groans a bit.

“You had to ruin a good moment, didn’t you?”

“I’m sorry,” she says, looking anything but contrite. “But, seriously, David is good for you and you like him, you must tell him and figure this out together.”

“You were supposed to help me, Christine, not say obvious shit.”

“Sometimes saying obvious shit is helpful,” Christine replies. “Especially if one is talking to a dense fucker like you. But I said I’d do my best to help you and I think I had an idea to show David just how much you appreciate him.”

***

Gwen gives it two days before sending David a message. It is a fairly simple message, just asking him how he’s doing and she sends it only half sure that she’d like the answer. The answer comes barely three minutes after the deliver.

 

From: David   
Hi, Gwen! I am feeling great, thanks *happy emoji*

 

Gwen smiles as she reads the message. Proper punctuation, capitalization, syntax. Even an emoji at the end, this is a true David message, not those sorry excuses for communication they had exchanged few days before.

 

To: David   
Thats really good! Im glad

 

From: David   
Thank you very much for your support

 

To: David   
Sure thing you moron   
Im always here for you

 

From: David   
Thanks   
  
To: David   
Did you and Max talk?

 

From: David   
Yes!   
  
From: David   
Do you believe he showed up the day after you came here?   
It was the biggest coincidence!

 

Gwen frowns as she reads the message. Didn’t Max tell David about their chat? She debates whether to tell him that she was responsible for almost literally beating some sense into Max or not, but in the end, she doesn’t comment. David seems charmed by the idea of this cosmic coincidence and Gwen doesn’t need to point out that in this case the cosmic force acting in their stead was actually her.

With a little smirk, she sends another message, this time asking David if he would like to have dinner with her that night. He quickly replies that he’d love to, and invited her over to his house.

 

From: David   
It is clean and proper now, I promise you.   
Also, I’m sorry you had to see the mess here the other day.

 

To: David   
Do you mean the mess of your house or yourself??!

 

From: David   
Gosh darn it, Gwen, that was cruel.

 

To: David   
I know, sorry *laughter emoji*   
Jokes apart, I see you at 8, ok?

 

From: David   
Ok.   
See you later.

 

***

 

David finishes emailing some images to a client a little before seven, plenty of time to start on dinner. He doesn’t have a clear idea of what to cook, but he wants something special to thank Gwen for her patience and support. After some deliberation, he makes a quick trip to the Ferguson’s grocery store and buys ingredients for a lasagna.

Gwen arrives about ten minutes late and while David hates delays he is not mad because those extra ten minutes were what he needed to finish baking dinner.

“I’m sorry about the delay, David,” Gwen says after they hug at door. “There was an accident near the clinic, traffic was just awful there.”

“Oh, was it serious?” David places his hand over his heart as he hears the news.

“I don’t think so, I mean, one of the cars was pretty damaged but there weren’t victims as far as I know.”

David sighs in relief. “Well, it is not so bad, then.”

Gwen nods absentmindedly, her eyes sweeping across the house, checking the little things that were out of order the previous time she’d been there. She is happy to see that the living room is in perfect order, and there are no hot pocket wrappers around. From the open window she sees the garden, still a little overgrown but otherwise well kept.

“It seems like you’re finally back,” she says in a fond voice.

“What do you mean?” David tilts his head a little when he asks.

“Last time I was here, it seemed like you had gone away. The mess, the closed windows, the wrecked garden…” she points around as she enumerates the items on her list. “Good job on the garden, by the way.”

David opens a blinding smile when she mentions the garden. He takes a step closer to the window to give it a loving look before turning back to her.

“Max helped,” he says, voice soft and sweet.

“Helped bring you back?”

“Yeah, this, but also,” David points to the garden. “He helped clean the garden.”

Gwen snorts.

“Max? Gardening?”

David laughs a little as he passes her by in order to go to the kitchen.

“I know it is strange, but, yes, Max gardening,” David finishes setting the table and motions for Gwen to come too. “But it happened. And it was his choice.”

Gwen whistles, surprised and just a little bit shocked to hear this.

“So, did you two talk or just cleaned the garden?” She asks, cautiously blowing cold air on a forkful of lasagna. David frowns a little.

“Of course we talked, Gwen!”

She smirks and buys some time by thoughtfully chewing on her lasagna. After a while, she swallows her food and shakes her head.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I was just teasing you,” she reaches across the little table to put her hand over his in a placating gesture. “So, what did you talk about?”

It is David’s turn to buy time by eating. He stuffs a particularly big piece of food in his mouth and spends a good minute chewing on it before swallowing and cleaning his mouth on a napkin. He licks his lips before speaking.

“He apologized,” David says, seriously. “For everything. He apologized even for his behavior back at Camp Campbell.”

Gwen looks deeply impressed with this. “And what did you do?”

“I accepted his apologies, of course,” David replies. “After that we talked a lot, about many things. He made me pancakes.”

“Wow, I swear I didn’t see this one coming.”

“They were the best pancakes I’ve ever eaten,” David tells her with a dreamy look on his face. “He told me about his family and why he was always trying to run away from Camp Campbell. He just wanted to go away from his abusive stepfather, but when he saw that his mother was pregnant again he decided to stay and protect his sister.”

“Oh, I didn’t know he had a sister,” Gwen comments raising her eyebrow in surprise.

“Her name is Hannah, Max enrolled her in a Catholic school for girls and she lives there because Max couldn’t get her custody. Ah, and she will turn ten next month,” David informs Gwen dutifully. “Gwen! I need your help!”

The sudden change in tone and pace makes Gwen choke a little on her food but she manages to clean her throat with a sip of wine. She cleans her mouth and her teary eyes before speaking.

“What the fuck, David, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Sorry,” David blushes as he apologizes. “It is just that Hannah asked me to go visit her on her birthday and I don’t know what I could give her as a gift.”

“I suppose Hannah is Max’s sister,” Gwen says cautiously.

“Yes. I talked to her on the phone and she is incredible. I really want to meet her, and I want to make a good impression on her,” David says eagerly and Gwen just stares at him with a puzzled look on her face. 

“Why is it that you want Max’s sister to like you so much?” Gwen asks, although she already has a strong idea about the answer.

“She is the most important person on Max’s life,” David says quietly, the previous energy gone and replaced by something deeper and more meaningful. “I want her to like me so I can stay close to them. I know someday Max will take her back and I’d love it if I could be part of their life.”

Gwen puts her fork and knife down. She slips into her therapist mode easily as she places both elbows on the table and brings her fingers together in a triangular shape in front of her. David seems oblivious to this change in her demeanor.

“David, how do you feel about Max?”

David looks up at her so fast his neck makes a little popping noise. He opens his mouth instinctively but no words come out, he tries to speak but struggles to find the right words.

“Take your time,” she tells him in a soothing voice.

And so David does this. He looks down at his plate as if the scraps of lasagna at the bottom of the white porcelain could give him any ideas. Gwen watches with endless patience, her eyes sharply noting the emotions running across David’s face.

Satisfaction. Shame. Lust. So many things flicker in and out of his features it is difficult even for Gwen to piece so many emotions together. At last, a more solid expression overpowers the others. David looks at her full of confidence when he finally speaks again.

“I like him,” David says, oddly simple after all his turmoil. “I think I might love him in the future, but right now I can only go as far as this. I like him very much.”

It is a pleasantly mature response but Gwen is trained to poke and prod on people’s emotions and reasoning so that’s what she does.

“Don’t you think this may be you overreacting to his presence?”

David looks confused by her question.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you’ve spent ten years looking for Max,” she says cautiously. “It is natural that you had a lot of expectations about meeting him again. You have invested a lot of time, money and emotional energy on him on these past ten years.”

“I have, but nothing that I had imagined all these years come even close to what I really have with him,” David replies, serious and focused. “I admit I’ve been obsessed for a long time, but during all these years I’d never considered that Max would have grown up, that I would meet him as an adult. I had no expectations for adult Max.”

“And what is adult Max like?”

“He is amazing,” David says with simplicity. “He is very strong, he cares deeply for his sister and his friends. He is very generous and giving,” David blushes deeply. “And I think he likes me as much as I like him.”

Gwen remembers Max’s desperation when she confronted him about David. He was as broken by their fight as David was and when Gwen offered him a chance to make amends he didn’t waste any time. This Max is willing to forgive and to apologize for his actions; this Max is willing to take his sister’s custody and be to her what his own mother couldn’t be to him.

This Max might be as good for David as David wants to be for him.

“I won’t lie, David,” Gwen says at last, “it is still very weird to know that you have a romantic interest in Max, but he is a grown man and a completely different person than what he used to be at Camp Campbell. I love you and I want your happiness, if you think Max is the way to go I’m here to give you the support you need.”

David’s eyes quickly fill with tears once Gwen finishes her phrase. He struggles to clean them up but in the end some manage to spill over his smile.

“Thank you, Gwen. I love you too.”

Gwen shakes her head, fond but exasperated. She gets up and goes around the table so she can properly hug David and sooth him as he sniffles and hiccups through his tears of joy.

“There, there,” Gwen says as she pats his back pretty much like a mother soothing a scared child. “So, you future sister-in-law deserves a good present and you need my help choosing it, right? Tell me about Hannah so I can have some ideas.”

David perks up when he starts to talk about Hannah. He knows little about her but she has left a big impression on him on those few minutes they talked on the phone. Gwen watches, fascinated, as David tells her, in minor details, the story of Barbarella the moth.

“She likes insects, you say,” Gwen says thoughtfully once David finishes the tale. He nods quickly in reply. “Yes, I happen to have a very good idea for you.”

 

***

 

“Would you like another drink?”

Sam doesn’t take his eyes off of the stage as he slides his empty glass across the counter and receives a new, full one in return. Caramel seems to be glowing these days, a good change after the last two weeks where the young man seemed to be dry and absent.

“Was Caramel sick lately?” Sam asks between sips of his beer. Ivan raises an eyebrow at his question.

“I don’t think so, no,” the bartender answers sparing a glance to the young man on the stage.

“He looks much more lively now,” Sam comments, mostly to himself. “I want an hour with him after the show.”

“I’m sorry, but Caramel is not taking any clients tonight,” Ivan informs him politely.

“What?!” Sam turns around abruptly, his beer swishing around on the glass and spilling on the counter. “I don’t care. I pay double!”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Ivan repeats, his voice a little harder now but still utterly professional and polite. “Caramel is not obliged to take clients, I may ask him if he’s interested in your generous offer but I can’t guarantee anything.”

Sam huffs in frustration and throws a nasty glare at the stage. Caramel continues his performance oblivious to the fuming client across the bar.

“Yeah, you tell that fucking whore that his best client is waiting,” Sam says aggressively, eyes still glued to the stage. Thankfully, he misses the way Ivan sighs in annoyance at his reaction.

When the performance ends Ivan disappears to the backstage in order to tell Max about Sam’s offer. He isn’t surprised when Max pulls an ugly face and shakes his head vehemently.

“Tell that sucker to get lost,” Max says with an annoyed grunt. “My best client… pff what a joke.”

“He is right, though,” Ivan observes. “He is responsible for a lot of your revenue.”

Max groans loudly.

“I don’t care, he is terrible on bed and I’m not in the mood to entertain him.”

Ivan acquiesces in silence and returns to the bar where Sam is eagerly waiting for Max’s answer. As soon as Ivan leaves Max goes to the changing room to change into his normal clothes and eat something before starting the journey back home.

It is a little before two in the morning when Max finally leaves The Fruit Bowl through the side door. The bar is in a commercial part of the city and the little side street is lined with back doors and employee’s rooms from many restaurants, bars, and nightclubs. Despite the hour, there is plenty of people on the main street and Max is focused on them when he leaves work.

He is about to reach the corner when a rough, slurred voice attacks him with a vicious tone. “Hey, whore, I want to have a little chat with you.”

A hand grabs his shoulder and spins him around forcefully, Max stumbles around a little, caught completely out of guard. When he recovers his balance he closes his hands into tight fists and looks up to face his attacker. The yellow light of the nearest lamp post shines upon the scene and Max goes livid when his eyes meet the man who has intercepted him.

 


	19. Fists and Threats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER!!!  
> This chapter has some pretty graphic scenes of violence and an abundance of slurs, be safe while reading.

There was a time where Max would be always with his guard up. Always tiptoeing around, always aware of the tiniest noises. For years his well-being, his very own surviving, depended on his ability to perceive danger and escape it before it was too late. On any given day, Max is happy that those days are left behind but, right now, he wishes his senses and instincts were still as sharp as they once were.

The hand that forces Max around is big and heavy but it slips off the young man’s shoulder easily. Max’s eyes follow that limp hand up a long and hairy arm, dangling awkwardly beside the attacker’s body. The man reeks of alcohol and terrible memories.

“Ron?” Max says, unable to believe his eyes. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Ron’s smile is nasty and it fills Max with apprehension.

“I got out, little bitch,” Ron says. After an ugly laugh, he adds: “Good behavior.”

Max’s stomach tightens in anxiety. Ron is between him and the Fruit Bowl door, effectively cutting his easy way out of this situation. The main street is still a little far away, screaming wouldn’t attract anyone’s attention and Max isn’t sure he can outrun Ron.

“I didn’t know you could behave well,” Max says, frantically looking around, trying to figure out a plan.

“Oh, I can,” Ron says and takes an unstable step forward. “I can do a lot of things you have no idea, you little shit. For example, I can make sure you lose more than one tooth if you don’t tell me where my daughter is right now.”

Max grits his teeth, the empty space where one of his molars used to be feels enormous in his mouth in that moment. It has been two years since the last time Max and Ron fought but he still vividly remembers the taste of blood on his mouth, the pain on his face and the adrenaline burning in his lungs. His hands curls into fists.

“I am not telling you where my sister is, Ron. Forget it.”

“She is not your sister, you bastard, she is my blood and I want her back,” Ron growls, cracking his knuckles.

“So you can abuse her like you did to my mother?” Max’s voice breaks a little as he talks back.

Ron snarls in response, the air seems to crackle between them. Tension rises when Ron takes another step forward, forcing Max to step backward to keep his distance.

“You talk a lot for a literal bitch,” Ron says, head tilted in scorn. “I almost didn’t believe when I was told about what you’ve become. A whore. Like I knew you would.”

“You know nothing about me, Ron, shut the fuck up!” Max stops going back, he plants his feet solidly on the floor and bares his teeth as Ron stops not even two feet away from him. “You ruined my mom’s life and mine, and now you want to ruin Hannah’s because all you do is fuck shit up.”

“Hannah is my daughter and I own her, her place is with me and I do to her whatever I want, slut.”

“You will not touch her, bastard!”

“Bastard? You would know about it, right?” Ron smirks dangerously. Max feels the hairs on the back of his neck rising like a cornered cat. “After all your stupid ass father couldn’t bear you and decided to quit earlier. You and Lara just survived because of me, you have always been a bastard in my house, a weight on my life and a reminder of how big of a slut your mother was before she met me!”

Max’s body reacts before his mind does.

One foot slides forward, rotating his hip just enough to give more amplitude to the arch his fist describes in the air - back around and forward directly into Ron’s face. Ron is not much taller than Max but his build is stocky and solid, the punch lands on his jaw and it creaks badly but Ron doesn’t even stumble under the impact.

“Fuck you, bitch!” Ron barks, one hand catching his sore jaw.

Max watches, surprised at himself more than anything else. He knows that fighting Ron is never a good idea, the man has a clear physical advantage and in his inebriated state, he probably doesn’t even feel pain. Max swallows dry, his heart beating double time in his small chest.

Ron goes for a punch in retaliation but he barely grazes Max’s shoulder - the mix of alcohol and bad light is giving Max a slight edge. The failed first attack doesn’t quell Ron’s fury, though. With an ugly wail, he swings his arm again. On the second try, he doesn’t go for a punch, his hand easily connects with Max’s head and he quickly grabs a handful of the young man’s black curls.

The forceful tug breaks Max’s balance and he stumbles forward, neck tilted into a painful angle, scalp burning in pain.

“Where is my daughter, fag?” Ron yells straight into Max’s face, his breath makes Max sick.

In close quarters Max has few options to counter-attack. He tries to hit Ron’s groin with his knee but he fails, causing Ron to snicker and tug even harder on his hair. It might be Max’s imagination, but he hears the strands breaking and snapping under the abuse.

“Fuck off!” Max screams, his fist connects with Ron’s floating rib and the man’s grip on his hair slackens enough for Max to escape.

Max takes some distance, his head throbbing in pain, heart pumping hard and fast. The sound of his blood rushing down his veins is loud on his ears. His mouth wasn’t hit but he tastes iron anyway.

Ron regains his balance and quickly goes for another attack, arms extended in front of him, hands like claws. Max is still dazed from the first attack so Ron manages to grab him by the neck. Ron’s hands easily envelop Max’s neck, immediately cutting off his air.

“Fuck…” Max says softly, each little pant and gasp hurting like hell.

“Tell me or I’m ending you here!”

Ron takes a step forward and Max’s back hits the wall forcefully. The younger man gasps sharply, his lungs contracting under the attack. With a feral growl, Ron drags Max up until his feet are no longer touching the ground. The texture of the wall burns and bruises the exposed skin on Max’s back, neck, and arm.

Panic settles in Max once the edges of his vision start to darken and blur. He starts to trash around in Ron’s grip, kicking and clawing out of pure desperation. Ron groans with the effort of keeping Max locked.

“That’s it fucker, you’re going down. Nobody will care if you die here in this fucking dirty alley,” Ron spits on Max’s face. “You’re just a whore.”

Max’s face is a deep shade of red, his lips turning purple, his vision going black. Out of spite and rage, he continues attacking, less vigorous with each passing second. Ron senses his impending end and satisfaction accidentally makes him relax the grip around Max’s neck. The sudden influx of air gives Max enough strength and clarity to attack Ron’s face, effectively clawing at his eyes.

Ron takes a big step back, both hands flying to his face to belatedly protect his eyes. Max falls on the ground with a thud, he is coughing and wheezing and desperately gulping down air. Fat tears run down Max’s face.

The two men remain on the ground for a tense moment. Max’s head is still hazy and his throat feels sore and inefficient; on the other side of the alley Ron is cursing and swearing as he cradles his face in both hands. The noises from the street sound distant and irrelevant in that moment.

Max is the first to stand, with Ron down he finally has a chance to reach the Fruit Bowl and safety. Unfortunately, his steps are unstable and slow, and he needs the constant support of the wall to move forward. He takes a few steps but when he passes by Ron’s side the man reaction is to grab his ankle and pull him down.

They tumble and wrestle on the floor like angry school boys. Punches and kicks are thrown but most of them don’t connect. Ron goes for Max’s hair once more but Max immediately counters by biting Ron’s wrist until he tastes real blood on his mouth.

Max has never been in so much pain, but he has never felt so angry as well. The anger boils inside him like a furnace moving a freight train. He keeps moving forward, punching and kicking and clawing at whatever piece of Ron he can get to. Ron answers in the same way, relentlessly attacking Max regardless of his own pain.

Somehow, Max manages to get on top of Ron, his legs tightly tucked around the man’s chest. Max smirks with blood stained teeth when he finds himself in this position.

Avoiding Ron’s attacks is easy in this position and Max finally lands a powerful punch on the older man’s face. The sound is satisfying, wet and loud, and Max feels his knuckles itching after the blow. He repeats the action with his left hand, and then once again with the right. The adrenaline makes Max giddy and he starts to laugh.

Laughing is a mistake. Ron takes advantage of Max’s distraction and headbutts him directly in the face. The impact dislodges Max at the same time it bursts his lip open and drenches his face in blood. Ron quickly attacks again, pinning Max under his own legs.

“You asked for it, whore,” Ron says under his breath, blood drips down his busted lip and soaks into Max’s once white shirt.

Ron’s fist connects with Max’s face, the strongest blow he has dealt all the night. The impact knocks the air out of Max and he gasps helplessly, the fresh memory of being strangled making him panic.

The next blow is almost as strong as the previous. It lands directly on Max’s eye and the young man realizes he can’t open it anymore.  _ That’s it. This is how I die _ , Max thinks bitterly. His only comfort is knowing that Ron was wrong. He would be missed, dearly so. By Hannah, and Christine. And David.

Thinking of David as Ron fist approaches in slow motion is oddly calming. Max closes his good eye and waits for the hit to connect. Except that it never does.

“What the hell?!”

Max recognizes the voice but has difficulties placing it on the scene. He slowly opens his eye and sees the back door of The Fruit Bowl open and Ivan standing on the threshold with a broom in hand and a bag of garbage in the other.

“Go away, baldy,” Ron snarls at Ivan, causing the older man to raise an unimpressed eyebrow.

“Ivan,” Max says in a slip of voice. The barman looks down at him and when their eyes meet a surprising amount of fury seems to ignite in Ivan’s normally stony face.

“Sir, I will have to ask you to leave right now or I’ll be forced to remove you.”

Ron scoffs, already turning his attention back to Max. Ignoring Ivan is a mistake.

Ivan quickly removes Ron from Max’s prone form, the handle of the broom pressing against the man’s throat as Ivan uses his hands to lock Ron’s arms away from Max.

“Get inside, Max, and call the police,” Ivan says in an ice-cold voice.

As fast as he manages Max follows the instruction. He distantly hears Ron screaming and swearing but he knows this is over. Ivan may have a peaceful look but Max knows he has ended many bar fights by himself and taken a lot of troublemakers out of The Fruit Bowl without breaking a sweat.

The police arrive in a few minutes, and they find Ron seating on a stool with a scornful look on his face and Ivan imperiously staring down on him. Max is behind the counter, protected by the physical barrier and Ivan’s presence. His left eye is black and so swollen it doesn’t open, there is a big gash on his lip and his neck is adorned with a bruise necklace.

Ivan handles the police officer’s questions and signs up the papers when they leave with Ron in cuffs. Ivan and Max watch as the blue and red lights of the police car vanish down the street.

“I thought he was in prison,” Ivan comments idly.

“He was,” Max replies, voice brittle and low. “Got out for good behavior.”

Ivan laughs and locks the door.

“The police officer said you should ask for a restraint order,” Ivan says carefully. “Now he knows where to find you, he might try to get to you again.”

Max nods slowly. “He wants to know where Hannah is.”

Ivan clicks his tongue disapprovingly.

“You did right not telling him.”

Finally, Ivan turns around to look at Max. He had washed his face but it is impossible to hide the damage with just some water and soap.

“This eye looks pretty bad,” he says, tenderly. “Would you like me to take you to the hospital?”

“You know I can’t afford,” Max says with reluctance.

“I’m sorry,” Ivan says, and for once he really looks contrite. “At least let me take you home.”

Max sniffs and touches his bruised and beaten throat lightly. He nods, slow and measuredly.

Ivan’s car is an old but perfectly well kept white Ford. Max takes the passenger seat with care and fastens the seatbelt as soon as the car is on. They ride in silence for a while, Ivan taking the known route to his coworkers’ house.

“Turn left,” Max asks quietly, pointing to a side street. Ivan raises his eyebrow.

“Isn’t it better to take the avenue behind the mall?” Ivan asks but turns on his blinkers and turns on the street Max asked for anyway.

“I’m not going to  _ my  _ home,” Max says softly, emphasis on ‘my’.

Ivan studies him through the rear mirror for a while. “It is unethical to visit a client in this circumstance.”

Max wants to hate Ivan for figuring this out so easily but he is just too grateful to feel anything but respect for the older man right now.

“He is not a client,” he says softly. Ivan softens.

“Good.”

They remain quiet, Max pointing out the twists and turns of the way instead of speaking. It is almost four in the morning when Ivan parks his white Ford in front of a small pale orange loft. There are flowers and herbs in the garden, he can smell cilantro and marigolds.

“I’ll talk to Sid,” Ivan says when Max leaves the car. “You can have a week off to fix your face and figure that restraint order out. We can’t afford to put you and the other workers in a dangerous situation because of him.”

“Thank you, Ivan,” Max says, trying to smile.

“Do you want me to wait until he opens the door?”

“No, it’s good,” Max dismisses him with a wave of his hand. His knuckles are raw and bruised as well. “I’ll keep in touch. Thanks once again and good night.”

“Good night, kid. Take care.”

***

David is having a strange dream.

In his dream he is back at Camp Campbell, he is surrounded by campers and they are all talking and singing but David can’t hear a thing. He tries to talk to them but no matter what they do he can’t listen to them.

Suddenly, David spots Max in the middle of the room. Child Max. Looking bored and cool as he always did. David is relieved when he sees the boy looking directly at him and acknowledging his presence. However, when David comes close enough to try and speak with him, Max starts to scream and David hears him clear as water.

Max screams again and again, loud and ringing like a bell; until David wakes up to the sound of his doorbell being rang over and over.

Sleep still slings to David’s eyelids as he slips out of bed and stumbles downstairs to check the door. The moonlight and the lamp post in front of his house provide enough light for him to recognize Max on his doorstep. He opens the door, curiosity overcoming the sleep on his mind. What would Max want with him at that moment?

“Max? What is wro…” David’s words die in his mouth when Max looks up at him with only one eye open and a mess of blood drying on his shirt.

“I’m sorry, David,” Max’s voice is so broken and fragile it tugs at David’s heartstrings.

David’s arms raise up so fast that they startle Max. The young man flinches and closes his eyes as if expecting a blow. David feels his blood boiling when he sees this reaction on a man as strong and proud as Max. He lowers his arms slowly.

“Sorry Max, didn’t mean to startle you,” he says in a soft voice, sleep completely gone. “What happened?”

“Ron,” Max says, tears suddenly forming on his one open eye.

David reaches for him slowly, telegraphing his movements in the same way he had done on that first time Max allowed him to touch him. Max waits for the soothing touch of David’s warm hands, and when it finally comes he melts under it. Tears start to run down his face and all strength leaves his body at once. He slumps against David and the older man easily catches him in a soft embrace.

“It is okay now, Max,” he says softly. “You’re with me, it will be okay.”

Max burrows into David’s chest, his diminutive stature being an advantage for once. David pats his back and hair with care as he analyses the damage - the countless scraps and bruises, the busted lip and swollen eye. The nasty, already purple and red ring around his neck.

“David, if I died, would you miss me?” Max asks between gasps and sobs.

David goes rigid at the question. He holds Max even tighter and kisses his messed curls before answering.

“Every single day of my life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I surprise you? Sam is an asshole, but an inoffensive one. Ron, on the other hand, this guy is Trouble.
> 
> Don't forget to check the [blog I created for this fic](https://caramel-and-pine.tumblr.com/), where you can find all the chapters, extra material (I'm working on it) and arts, including a [character profile of Christine](https://caramel-and-pine.tumblr.com/post/169603249934/my-friend-convinced-me-to-do-one-of-those-draw) I made myself XD
> 
> Thanks a lot for all the love and support and, as always, don't hesitate to comment and criticise and ask anything your <3 desires!


	20. Aftermath and Restart

When David gently presses his face against Max’s head at four in the morning in front of his house he smells like cheap soap, blood, and back alley dirt. And fear. David is familiar with this smell. Fear smells like cold sweat, it is rancid and difficult to describe but it seems to embed in the skin and hair and it is difficult to get rid of it.

David recognizes the smell because that’s what many children used to smell like in their first days of camping, because Cynthia smelled like this on the days after her miscarriage. Because David himself smelled like this during his panic attacks and depressive episodes.

Sensing this foul scent in Max breaks David’s heart.

“Let’s go upstairs, Max,” he says after a long embrace. “I’ll run a shower for you.”

Max nods, numb, and allows David to guide him to the bathroom on the second floor. Max’s steps are slow and he hisses constantly, his muscles complaining after the fight. David wonders if he had broken something: a finger or toe, or maybe sprained an ankle or something of the likes. Regardless, David is extra careful as he helps Max upstairs.

Once in the bathroom David sits Max on the closed toilet and starts to run the bath. The mixers in the shower are quite stubborn and he wants to make sure the temperature is perfect - he doesn’t want to scald Max or make him cold either. Max remains silent as David fiddles around in the shower.

“Would you like to tell me what happened?” David asks softly as he turns around from the shower and finally looks back to Max.

The young man looks a bit lost for a moment before blinking and nodding.

“Ron, my step-father, showed up at the bar,” Max tells in a rough voice. Speaking seems to pain him and he puts his hand gently over his abused throat. “He wanted to know where Hannah is, he probably wants to get her full custody again and poison her against me.”

David gasps, mortified. He has a terrible memory concerning Max’s step-father and he remembers all the bad things he had done to Max during the time they lived together. A fire seems to light in David’s gut when he imagines that brute taking Hannah away from the school Max worked so hard to enroll her in.

“This can’t happen,” David says, voice low despite his anger.

“It won’t,” Max replies stoically. “I didn’t tell him and neither will the lawyers until he proves he has changed, which, let’s face it, is clear he didn’t,” Max points at his beaten face and bruised neck to prove his point.

David frowns deeply.

“I am so sorry you had to go through this, Max,” he says, heartbroken, but Max dismisses his apology with a wave of his hand. David notices the bruises on his knuckles.

“This is not your fault, David,” Max says. “I am just glad you received me here in this state.”

“I would never not receive you,” David replies immediately. “I don’t care what problems you have, you can always count on me, always come to me.” David holds Max’s gaze for a moment, but eventually, he looks away and adds, in a very low and soft voice. “I want to take care of you.”

Max’s heart fills with a soft feeling and he feels at peace despite the pains and aches on his body and the new threat of Ron around.

“Let’s get those wounds cleaned up and then you can take a shower, ok?” David finally starts to act on practical measures.

The water is still running as David helps Max out of his clothes. The stench of fear and blood is strong on his shirt so David tosses it as far as possible. When Max is finally naked David reaches for the first aid kit on the cabinet and starts to pick the necessary supplies. Cotton balls, peroxide, iodine, gauze and band-aids are neatly prepared on the counter under Max’s apprehensive stare. David drenches a cotton ball with peroxide and comes closer to Max.

“I’ll clean this cut in your lip with it, okay?” He shows the cotton ball and Max eyes it suspiciously.

“Will it sting?”

David can’t help but laugh a little. Sometimes Max still sounds like a child.

“A little, yes,” he replies with honesty. “And it will feel a little warm too, but this is because the peroxide reacts with the blood. It will be over quickly, I swear.”

Max frowns, but when he does so the movement pulls on his lip and it causes the cut to open and some more blood blooms to the surface.

“Fuck it,” he cusses. “Whatever, go ahead.”

David gently presses the peroxide against Max’s lip. The reaction is instantaneous, the product bubbles slightly, reacting with the blood and cleaning the wound. Max sucks in a harsh breath but remains still as David gently pats the wound down with the peroxide. Once he is satisfied with the cleaning he dips a cotton ball in water and rubs it over the cut, washing the remaining peroxide away.

“After you finish washing I’ll get some ice for your eye, but for now there is nothing I can do about it,” David explains in an apologetic tone. Max shrugs a little.

“I’m feeling something on my back, too,” Max tells him, uselessly trying to look down his own shoulder to check his back. “Can you take a look, please?”

Max turns around and David sees a collection of bruises, scrapes and little cuts littering the young man’s usually smooth skin. He gently touches some of the injuries, gauging Max’s reactions. They don’t seem to hurt too much, but a few of them could become problems if left unattended.

“I’ll rub some iodine on those, okay? It is just a bunch of scrapes but there are two cuts that might infect if we are not careful.”

David uses some more cotton balls to clean Max’s back with iodine, the rich red liquid staining Max’s dark skin.

“Is there anything else?” David asks when he finishes tending to the cuts on Max’s back.

“I don’t think I could handle more,” Max says, defeated.

“Nonsense,” David replies, rolling his eyes in a fond way. “You are one of the toughest people I know.”

Max doesn’t reply but it is clear that he doesn’t quite believe it. David helps him enter the empty tub and Max slowly sits down on the edge, bruised back turned to David. The older man reaches over to the shower head and takes it off the hook so he can wet Max’s hair.

David is extra careful, the water is pleasantly warm and it runs down Max’s head and back in dirty rivulets. His hair is plastered with sand, dry leaves and dirt, not to mention some blood they are not entirely sure belongs to Max. The usually soft curls uncoil and hang, limp and wet over Max’s forehead and neck.

“Can you lean your head back a little?” David asks, offering the shower head to Max and reaching for the shampoo. Max obeys quietly and David pours some shampoo in his hand before applying it to Max’s hair. He carefully washes down the loose curls, wiping the suds and soapy water away from Max’s face. David rinses Max’s hair and, much to Max’s surprise, lathers his hair a second time.

David washes Max’s back, his arms, and hands, the bruised ring of his neck, with utmost care. Max can’t remember the last time he felt so cared for. He suddenly feels the urge to cry, which is not rare per se, but, this time he just allows himself to cry. This is rare.

The soft sobs and hitched breaths are barely audible over the sound of the water still running, but David notices them anyway. He doesn’t ask about it, doesn’t ask Max to stop crying or anything. He just continues washing Max with gentle hands and a lot of sweet smelling and smooth soap. In the near silence of the bathroom, they both feel so close and intimate that words don’t seem necessary. When David finishes washing Max he plants a soft kiss on his forehead and plugs the drain on the tub.

“Soak a little, it will help your muscles,” he says in a comforting tone. “I’ll get you something to eat, okay? Is there anything you’d like?”

“I’m not hungry,” Max answers, watching the water rising in the tub.

“You need to eat something,” David insists. “At least some tea for your throat, please.”

Max sinks into the tub, eyes closed and mouth slack.

“Tea, okay.”

“Take your time, I’ll be back in a moment,” David tells him. “Call me if you need anything.”

Max nods but doesn’t say anything. David watches him for a little longer before going downstairs. The bathroom door remains open as he prepares chamomile tea with a generous helping of honey and some lemon to soothe Max’s throat. He also spreads butter and jam on some pieces of toast and arranges them neatly on a plate - Max said he wasn’t hungry but David knows he needs some nutrients to help his body heal from the abuse it suffered.

David goes back to the bathroom and finds Max in the exact same position he was when the older man left. The water has filled about half of the tub and David stops it before sitting on the floor by Max’s side.

“Do you want some tea now?”

“Yes, please,” Max asks, opening his eyes and turning to face David. He picks the big yellow mug David is offering and takes a little sip of it, eyes fluttering closed in pleasure. “This is good.”

“It will help your throat.”

“Thanks.”

Max drinks his tea, sip by little sip. Eventually, he reaches over the edge of the tub to pick a jam covered piece of toast and he nibbles on it for a long time.

“Does it hurt when you swallow?”

“A little, yes,” Max says, pensively. “It is not as bad as the last time, though.”

“When you lost your tooth?”

Max nods in an affirmative and picks another piece of toast in silence.

“Max?” David calls him and Max looks at him with his one open eye full of attention. “Do you allow me to tell Gwen about what happened to you today?”

Max swallows his little piece of toast.

“Gwen? Why?”

“She’s been working on a clinic for some years now, and a lot of their patients are children who have suffered abuse or are in dangerous situations in their homes,” David explains. “She has studied law because of her work, so she might be able to help us figure out some legal action against Ron. Maybe a restraint order or even a way to send him back to prison.”

“I’ve already called the cops on him at the bar,” Max says.

“This is very good, but, I worry about Hannah,” David presses on. “We must protect her and Gwen will know how to help us do it.”

_We. Us._ Max is not used to be part of a plural but he can’t help but notice how easy it is for David to use them. David doesn’t want Max to deal with it by himself. David doesn’t want to point a solution and wait for the result, he wants to be part of the process. It suddenly hits Max that David is not doing all of this out of overcorrection, or compensation for the years they spent apart, or even for the sex and fun. He wants to be part of Max’s life, he wants the good moments but also the bad ones. The afternoon in the garden and the sunburns too.

David is not scared of the ugly, messy parts of Max’s life. He wants those too, and Max feels so dumb for not noticing it before.

“We can talk to her tomorrow, what do you think?” Max replies. David smiles at him, bright and relieved.

“Sure! I’ll call her in the morning and check when she’ll be able to talk to us.”

“Maybe we could invite her to dinner too?” Max uses the plural tentatively. It feels a little odd on his tongue but David accepts it without a second thought and it soothes Max’s wild heart.

“I’d love to,” David says, voice as soft as his eyes. “I’m sure she’ll love too.”

“David?”

“Yes?”

“Can you sing that Camp Campbell song to me?”

“Can I get my guitar?”

Max snorts. “Yeah, sure.”

David kisses Max’s lips as softly as possible before going back to his bedroom and taking his old guitar out of a case in his wardrobe. Once back in the bathroom David sits on the closed toilet and tries a few chords on the guitar.

“It is a little out of tune,” he says with a frown.

“I don’t care,” Max replies.

“But Max, you will not get a real Camp Campbell experience like this,” David says in mock exasperation.

“You know what? I take it back,” Max says with a little smile playing on his lips. “I don’t want your stupid song anymore.”

“Too late, Max, because I know a place that is tucked away...” David says and with a lot of flair and drama, he starts to play and sing. The words come easily, at least the first part does. When he gets to the list of activities he gets lost and just stutters and snorts before giving up. “Sorry, I don’t remember the rest.”

“That’s okay,” Max says with a smile. “We never did all those things, anyway.”

“Well, you didn’t,” David says, plucking the strings and tuning them patiently.

“You did?”

“Most of them, yes.”

“So, you didn’t do all of them” Max presses.

“I didn’t, but there is someone who did.”

“Who is it?”

“Mr.  Campbell,” David answers brightly, and, after a beat, he adds, “I suppose.”

Max can’t help but laugh. After so many years David still holds that man in an altar.

“That man was a joke, David. I think he has never camped in his life.”

David gasps, horrified. “How dare you?” He mumbles, indignant.

“Whatever happened to him?” Max asks.

“Oh, after the FBI closed the camp he was kept in a place called Super Guantanamo,” David replies. “Gwen and I were interviewed and questioned many times but after two years we were deemed innocent and I haven’t heard of Mr. Campbell ever since. He tried to get extradited to Thailand or something but I’m not sure he got to.”

“Why the fuck would he ask to be extradited to Thailand?”

“I don’t know,” David says, shrugging. “He was an inspiring but very mysterious man.”

“He was a joke,” Max repeats and laughs at David’s indignant expression. “But, I’ve only met you because of him, so I think he had some qualities after all.”

David’s indignation vanishes in the blink of an eye, and it is replaced by a deep blush. Max smiles fondly at him.

“Well, I think I’ll get you some ice to put in your eye,” David says, putting the guitar away.

“Get me a towel, please,” Max asks. “I’ll turn into a prune if I stay here a minute more.”

David gives him the fluffiest towel he has and helps him get out of the tub before going back to the kitchen to get some ice. He puts the ice in a plastic bag and wraps it in a clean tea towel. As an afterthought, he finds some aspirins and brings them too.

When he arrives in the bedroom he sees Max carefully flossing in front of the mirror in the bathroom.

“You care a lot about your teeth,” David comments, tilting his head.

“Christine is a bitch about dental hygiene,” Max says. “Her dad was a dentist, he fucking drilled it into her head.”

David laughs a little. “Is this how you met her? Because of her father?”

“Uhum,” Max grunts an affirmation through the fingers and floss inside his mouth. “He had this social project where he offered some simple treatments for free. When Ron knocked my tooth out Dr. Smith took care of it. Chris used to work as his secretary and we became friends after a few appointments. When he died and her step-mother expelled her from home she suggested that we should move in together.”

“You two have a beautiful friendship, it is a shame that it started because of this,” David says, fiddling with the bag of ice as Max pours mouthwash in his mouth and gargles loudly.

“I don’t know,” Max spits the mouthwash and rinses his mouth. “It is very… unique. I think it fits us.”

“Somehow, it does,” David smiles as Max turns off the lights in the bathroom and joins him in the bedroom.

“Can I borrow some clothes?”

“Of course,” David replies, offering Max the bag of ice and opening the drawer to get a shirt and a pair of shorts to Max. “Maybe you should bring some clothes. I don’t mind lending mine to you, but maybe you’d like to have some of your own here too.”

Max freezes, ice bag halfway to his face.

“You want me to bring my… stuff to your house?”

David snaps into a standing position, shirt, and shorts held tightly in his hands, a blush deep and wide across his face.

“I… I mean, if you want to, of course. I’m not imposing anything,” David squeaks in response. “I just thought you’d be more comfortable like this.”

Max places the ice on the dresser and gently pries the clothes away from David. He puts them by the ice bag and looks David straight in the eye.

“You’re offering me to bring some of my things to your house like, like a person in a relationship with another person?” Max asks, hope and fear in equal measures in his voice.

David takes a deep breath.

“Yes. I am offering you to bring some of your things to my house like a person in a relationship with another person.”

“Can I have a toothbrush here too?” Max asks, his bruised face hurts when he smiles but he can’t stop smiling anyway.

“Absolutely! You can choose the color and we will change it every three months so Christine’s dad will be proud of you.”

David almost topples over when Max tackles him in a tight hug. They sway in place as the older man regains his balance, Max’s smiling face pressed against David’s neck.

“Am I your boyfriend now?”

“Do you like it?”

Max snorts. “I never did, but I do now.”

David smiles, fond and full of adoration.

“So, yes, you are my boyfriend now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it only took them TWENTY FUCKING CHAPTERS!  
> I'm so proud of them, though <3
> 
> I've wanted to talk about how Max and Christine met for ages now, I'm happy I managed to sneak this information here. On a side note, the real reason both Chris and Max are paranoid with dental hygiene is because my mother is and she drilled it into my head 8D
> 
> Also, don't forget to check the [blog](https://caramel-and-pine.tumblr.com/) I've created for this fic :D


	21. Affection and Belonging

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you miss me? I missed you guys A LOT!  
> Sorry about the super delayed update, my computer broke last week and only now I've managed to have it fixed.  
> I hope this is worth the wait :)

When Max wakes up his body is aching head to toe, his throat is sore and dry and he can’t seem to open his eyes. Despite the pain he feels very comfortable - David’s bed is very soft and Max’s skin glide pleasantly on his off-white sheets. The young man opens one eye slowly, taking in the room under the light entering from open bathroom door. He is a little upset to find himself alone on the bed.

“David?” He calls, but his voice barely reaches his own ears, his throat protests vehemently against his words.

Max sits down carefully and tries to listen around for signs of David. As if on cue a soft whistling sound reaches his ear and just a few seconds later David shows up on the bedroom holding a tray on one hand and a thermos on the other.

“Max!” He says once he sees the young man sitting on his bed. “Oh, I thought you were still sleeping. I wanted to wake you up with breakfast on bed.”

Max blushes fiercely and averts his eyes, a small smile on his lips.

“Still breakfast on bed,” he says in a fragile voice.

“Your throat is still hurting?” David asks, sitting by Max’s side and balancing the tray on his legs. “Don’t worry, I took a quick trip to the drugstore earlier and I bought you this.” He hands a pack of cherry flavored sore throat tablets as well as pain killers. “I know your throat hurts because of trauma and not infection but this is a concentrated painkiller, it will help you anyway.”

Max leans up and plants a gentle kiss to David’s cheek. “Thank you,” he mouths the words but avoids making sounds. He pops two of the painkillers directly into his mouth and swallows them dry.

“You’re welcome,” David replies, a light blush coloring his face. “Are you hungry? I made more tea, and there is cereal and little sandwiches too.” He points to the tray, loaded with food.

Max takes one of the mugs on the tray and fills it with the tea from the thermos.

“No coffee?” He asks and David shrugs.

“Tea seems better for now, but I can brew some coffee if you want.” Max shakes his head in a negative.

David eats just a little as he had eaten before, but he loves sharing meals so he drinks tea and eats one of the little cheese sandwiches he’s made. Max finds that he is starving, which makes sense since he hadn’t had a proper meal since the last night before going to work. It is hard to swallow so he takes small bites and continuously sips on his tea during the entire meal.

They eat in pleasant silence, their legs touching and David’s foot bumping into Max’s playfully. Once Max is satisfied David places the tray on the floor and they lay back down on the bed, Max happily taking the role of the little spoon.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” David says, his chin resting upon Max’s shoulder. “Do you still want to ask Gwen’s help? I’m sure she’ll love to help us and I think we definitely should do this but it is your choice.”

Max nods assertively.

“I’m sure,” he says in a low, raspy voice.

“Do you want to talk to her yourself or should I do it?”

“You, please,” Max replies, still speaking as little as possible. “You are closer to her.”

“I understand,” David says, pensively. And then, just because he truly can now, he presses a quick kiss to the back of Max’s neck. “I need to go downtown get some material I sent to print but if you want I can stay here with you, it is not urgent.”

Max shakes his head in a negative. “I’m okay,” he says. “Your work is important.”

David smiles and plants another little kiss on Max’s neck.

“It shouldn’t take long, if I go now I can get here around one.”

“What time is it now?” Max asks, surprised.

“A little before noon,” David answers. “I know it was late for breakfast but you went to bed so late yesterday, and lunch on bed doesn’t have the same appeal.”

Max snorts a little laugh. “Good point,” he says softly. “You should have woken me.”

“No, resting is very important for you now. And, as I said, it was very late when you went to bed yesterday.” Max grunts a little but says nothing. “Don’t worry, Max, you can stay and sleep for as much as you want to.”

“Really?”

“Sure,” David sits up and Max turns a little so they are looking at each other. “I mean, you are my boyfriend now, aren’t you?”

Max blushes but smiles. “Yes.”

“You’re always welcome here.”

“I… I got a week off to deal with this,” Max points at his own face. “May I stay a few days? One or two until I get better from the bruises?”

David leans down and kisses the tip of Max’s nose.

“You can stay as long as you want, I’m serious about it.”

“Thanks.”

They kiss, careful and tender, and when they pull away David stands up.

“Well, I must get going,” he says, hands on his hips in an assertive pose. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Take care,” Max says, snuggling back into the bed and feeling tiredness returning already. The painkillers must be making him sleepy. David kisses his forehead and puts Max’s phone by his side on the bed before going downstairs to take the bus downtown.

***

From: Miss Chriss   
Maxy! Ivan told me what happened yesterday!!   
I shouldve stayed there with u

From: Miss Chriss   
I’m so sorry, love

From: Miss Chriss   
Ivan said he left u @ david’s  
U couldve come home, but i’m happy u have someone else too

From: Miss Chriss   
Call me when u can, i’m worried

 

Max reads the messages with a knot on his chest. He never meant to worry or upset Christine, he had planned to tell her in the morning since there wasn’t much she could do to help the night before. Also, a little part of him feels guilty for choosing David over her. Now, in the light of day, he doesn’t really know why he made this choice but he can’t say he’s sorry for it.

David is in the kitchen washing the dishes after their late lunch while Max is sitting in the living room trying to find something good on the television. After reading Christine’s messages the younger man silently walks into the other room and taps David’s shoulder to catch his attention.

“Do you need something, Max?” David asks as he sets the last plate in the cabinet.

“Christine is worried,” Max tells him slowly. “Ivan told her about yesterday.”

“Oh, you should call her.”

Max nods but looks a little uncomfortable which makes David tilt his head in confusion.

“Is there any problem? If you can’t speak you can send a text, she’ll understand, no?”

“She will,” Max agrees quickly, he doesn’t doubt Christine’s empathy. “She’ll ask why I’m here and not home.”

David hums in understanding. He dries his hands in a towel and pulls Max closer to him in a loose embrace.

“Do you think she’ll disapprove of our relationship?”

“No, absolutely no,” Max snorts a little laugh and it makes his throat burn badly. “She’s been rooting for you since you met at the fabric store.”

“Oh, I didn’t know it,” David blushes deeply. “I’m glad, though. So, what is the problem?”

“I don’t want her to think I’ll abandon her now that I have a boyfriend.”

David purses his lips as he considers the issue.

“Well, maybe you could invite her to come here? I am very grateful to her not only because of the fabric store day but because of everything she and her dad did to you,” David says with an open, honest look on his face.”If she feels welcome here she won’t feel like you’ve abandoned her.”

Max stares at David for a few seconds.

“Are you serious?”

“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?”

Max averts his eyes. “I don’t know. You don’t really know Christine but you’re already inviting her to your house. It is… strange.”

David shrugs but smiles anyway. “She is important to you, so she is important to me too. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I rejected your friends or pulled you away from them?”

Max pulls David closer, tighten his arms around the taller man. Forcing the muscles hurt but he doesn’t let go. When he speaks his fragile voice is further muffled by the fact his face is pressed against David’s chest.

“It means so much to me to have you and Chris by my side, I guess I’m just… not used to this. Being accepted and lo - cared for so deeply.”

The slip of tongue doesn’t go unnoticed but David doesn’t comment on it, he just holds Max tighter and kisses the top of his head affectionately.

“I want you to be happy,” David says in a soft voice. “I want your life to be more complete now, so I won’t take anything from you. I’ll only give you more.”

Tears form on Max’s open eye, his heart beats so hard it hurts. David’s affection seems to cover him physically, a soft and warm blanket all around him and Max basks in it for a moment before finally pulling away.

“Do you think Chris could come here today before work? She could bring some of my stuff too.”

“Absolutely,” David answers while gently wiping some moisture from Max’s eye. “May I stay here with you guys or should I go out while she’s here?”

Max looks as exasperated as he can, which is not as much as usual since his heart is still melting.

“It is your house, you moron,” he chastises with no real heat behind his words. “You can do whatever you want.”

David shrugs. “I don’t want to impose.”

“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I ignored you to stay with my friends kept you away from them?”

David smiles, the corner of his eyes crinkling adorably.

“Touché,” he says in a falsely defeated voice. “Well, if we’ll have visitors today I might prepare something, no? What kind of tea does Christine like?”

“You don’t need to prepare anything,” Max says, shaking his head. “And Christine hates tea, she only drinks coffee. And I mean it, I think she doesn’t even drink water unless it has passed through a french press.”

“Seems like I have a lot to learn about her,” David says with a smile.

“Don’t worry,” Max stands on his tiptoes in order to kiss David’s nose. “You’ll have a lot of time.”

***

To: Miss Chriss   
sorry about not talking to you sooner   
i was out cold until now

To: Miss Chriss   
my throat hurts a lot so it is difficult to speak

From: Miss Chriss   
FINALLY!

From: Miss Chriss   
i was worried sick *crying emoji*

To: Miss Chriss   
i’m sorry   
didnt mean to upset or worry you

From: Miss Chriss   
why didnt you come home yesterday?

To: Miss Chriss  
i don’t know, really   
but i’m glad i didnt

To: Miss Chriss   
david and i are officially boyfriends now

From: Miss Chriss  
O  
M  
G

From: Miss Chriss   
I AM SO HAPPY FOR YOU

To: Miss Chriss   
THANKS   
IM HAPPY FOR MYSELF TOO

From: Miss Chriss  
asshole xD

To: Miss Chriss   
david invited you to come here today   


From: Miss Chriss  
really?

To: Miss Chriss  
really!  
i said I didn’t want you to think i’m abandoning you so he said   
“bring her here! shell be my friend too”

From: Miss Chriss  
this is SO SWEET

From: Miss Chriss  
he is so cute i feel like i should give YOU the shovel talk

To: Miss Chriss  
shut up bitch

From: Miss Chriss  
hahahahahahahaha  
sorry

From: Miss Chriss  
what time should I go?

To: Miss Chriss  
before work is ok  
around 4 i guess?

From: Miss Chriss  
okay~  
oh, if im visiting you and your BOYFRIEND  
mayb i should bring something?

From: Miss Chriss  
what kind of coffee does David like?

To: Miss Chriss  
unbelievable  
no coffee u starbucks maniac

To: Miss Chriss   
but i need you to bring some of my stuff here  
underwear, like, two shirts and one pair of shorts  
i’ll stay here a little while

From: Miss Chriss  
should i bring mr. honeynuts?

To: Miss Chriss  
no  
stay with him so you dont miss me so much

From: Miss Chriss  
HAHAHA  
u wish, bitch

From: Miss Chriss   
i still have somethings to do  
but i’ll see you and your BOYFRIEND soon

To: Miss Chriss  
is it really necessary to write BOYFRIEND like this?

From: Miss Chriss  
of course :)

***

Gwen’s eyes are itching after so many hours in front of the computer. She looks at the list in front of her and gets mildly desperated when she sees how many reports she still needs to write. Her mug is full of cold coffee and she’s been rehearsing a break for at least twenty minutes but she just can’t bring herself to stop.

Just as she is clicks the save button on her file her phone starts to ring. She welcomes the reprieve.

“Hi, David,” she greets while rubbing her sore eyes.

“Hello, Gwen!” David greets back with way too much energy in her opinion. “How are you?”

“Drowning in work,” she says with a little sigh. “You?”

“Many things have happened,” David says, eyes on Max as the younger man dozes off on the couch by David’s side.

“Are they good?”

“Some yes, some no.”

“Can you tell me the good ones and spare me the others?”

“I’m afraid not,” he replies with a frown.

“Can you wait until dinner to tell me the bad ones?” Gwen tries again, with a pained voice.

David laughs a little.

“Well, yes. In fact, Max and I would like to invite you to dinner tonight.”

A beat of silence follows his line.

“Max and you?”

“Max and I.”

“As in a couple, Max and David?”

David’s face hurts with how big his smile is.

“Yes, like a couple. Max and David invite Gwen to dinner.”

“Oh, David,” she smiles despite how tired she is. “I’m so happy you figured this out. But, I’m kinda worried about those bad news now.”

“Well, let’s say Max and I are happy to have figured things out but the circumstances were kinda rough.”

Gwen makes a little displeased noise.

“Guess I can wait until dinner to know more about it, no?”

“Sure, Gwen,” David appeases her. “Is eight good for you?”

“Yes, sure,” Gwen looks at the clock. “I need to return to work now, but I’ll want to know everything later.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll update you on everything.”

“Minus your sex life, ok, thanks.”

David’s face turns painfully red and he stutters a little before replying.

“Gwen! Don’t be so crude.”

Gwen laughs on the phone, some of the stress lifting from her shoulders.

“See you later, David.”

“Bye-bye, Gwen.”

***

Christine whistles when she stops in front of the address Max had sent her. The loft is not big but it is well taken care of with a pretty garden and a welcoming atmosphere. The neighborhood is pretty but there is an overall artificial feeling to it that David’s house doesn’t possess. His house seems like a real home.

She parks the scooter in front of the narrow gate and enters with Max’s bag on her shoulder. There are flowers on the garden and the entire place has a pleasant smell. She smiles as she reaches the door and rings the bell. Only a moment later the door opens.

“Hello, Christine,” David greets her as he steps aside and lets her in. “Welcome.”

“Thank you, David,” she says taking a quick glance around. “It is a very nice house.”

“Thanks,” he replies amicably. “Max is changing upstairs, he’ll be back soon. Would you like something to drink?”

“Oh, actually,” she reaches into the bag and pulls out a bag of ground coffee beans. “I’ve got a gift for you, to thank you for all you’re doing for Max.”

“That’s lovely, thanks,” he takes the bag with reverence. “I might as well use it now! Take a seat, please, I’ll prepare us some coffee.”

“Thanks,” Christine says placing Max’s bag on the floor and sitting on the couch with a leg crossed over the other.

Max arrives a moment later. Christine is about to make fun of him for the oversized pajama pants he is wearing but when she sees his face the mockery dies in her throat.

“Maxy…” she calls him softly as he approaches. “What the fuck?”

He stops in front of her and she touches his cheek gently. His eye is still swollen but it is possible to open it now, and the bruises around his neck are dark in many shades of purple and green.

“Ivan said it was bad but I didn’t imagine it would be this bad,” she says, her own eyes shining with tears. Max leans forward and Christine catches him in a tight embrace. “It will be alright now,” she says softly.

They stay there for a long while, only hugging in tense silence. David watches from the kitchen as they rock back and forth until they eventually sit down on the couch. Max’s voice is a little stronger than before and some of his words reach David all the way to the kitchen. He is telling her about the attack, and David approaches quietly with two cups of coffee and a mug of tea in hand.

“That asshole, I hate him so much,” Christine says, accepting the coffee cup with a indignant expression on her face. “I wish I could do something to help now.”

“Being here helps,” Max says as he takes a sip of his tea.

“Cheesy,” Christine teases and Max punches her leg softly in retaliation. “And speaking of cheesy, I am very happy to know you are officially together, David.”

David blushes. “Thank you. I am very happy too. It is a shame something bad like this needed to happen to bring us together, though.”

“It is,” Christine agrees with a little frown. “But at least this problem is solved.”

“I wouldn’t call it a problem,” David says, embarrassed.

“Well, you say this because it wasn’t you dealing with Max’s emotional crisis,” Christine says and this time she braces for the punch Max throws on her leg.

“Shut it, bitch!”

“Language…” David tuts in a low voice that gets overwhelmed by both Christine and Max teasing and mocking each other.

Time goes by quickly and a little before six Christine stands up to leave. David walks her to the gate as Max waves from his spot on the couch.

“It was very good to have you here, Christine,” David tells her once they reach the gate.

“Please, call me Chris,” she says with a wide smile. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“You’re always welcome here, Chris,” he says, honest and direct. Christine watches him for a while and after a moment of consideration she speaks again.

“You’re a very nice guy, David. Max is amazing and I love him, but his life is quite messy and very ugly sometimes. I know it means the world to him to have a safe place to be, and someone like you to care for him.”

David looks at her for a long time, then his eyes drift back to the house where he can see a part of Max’s leg hanging from the side of the couch. He smiles a little.

“Is it too soon to say that I feel like we belong?”

Christine looks at the house over David's shoulder. The nice neighborhood, the well kept garden and pastel colors on the walls. This place is nothing like her and Max’s apartment and in any other situation Christine would have laughed at the idea of Max living in a place like this, but, with David in the picture everything seems to fit together quite nicely.

“I don’t know,” she replies toughtfully as she straps the helmet on and climbs on the scooter. “Is it too soon to say that I agree with you?”


	22. New Possibilities and No Regrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *arrives one month late with Starbucks*
> 
> OMG, what the fuck?! How did it take me sooooo long to write a new chapter?  
> Oh, yes, right: I was hit by a writer's block the size of fucking Australia!  
> God help me...
> 
> What else can I say? Maybe this is an Easter miracle xD
> 
>  
> 
> Hopefully, I've got everything under control now.

There is nothing different on David’s house when Gwen arrives there a little before eight. It is still the same soft orange color, with the same path of white pebbles cutting the lime green grass, the same smell of cilantro, peppermint and summer flowers. It is exactly the same as it has been for years, but at the same time, it isn’t.

Music is coming from the open windows, and as Gwen parks, in front of the gate, she catches a glimpse of two silhouettes going back and forth when it used to be only one for a long time. She stays in her car for a moment longer, gathering some energy for whatever bad news David and Max have for her.

David and Max… she doesn’t want to admit, but the idea still hasn’t set in her mind yet. She has seen grown Max only once, it is still hard for her to divorce the idea of him from the image of the bratty ten-year-old who terrorized their last year at Camp Campbell. However, she trusts David and wants to reconnect with Max, so she takes a deep breath and gets out of the car.

It is David who opens the door for her, his smile is so big and bright that she can’t help but smile in return.

“Gwen!”

“Hi, David,” she leans in and they hug for a moment before she enters the house. Dinner is already being cooked and the smell assaults her all the way across the kitchen and living room. “What are you cooking? It smells good.”

David’s smile turns impossibly bigger.

“I’m not cooking anything,” he says, rocking on the balls of his feet like an overexcited child. “Max is.”

“Max is cooking?” She asks, a little incredulous.

“Sure is,” David nods for emphasis. “And he is very good at it.”

Gwen shakes her head slightly, surprised but happily so. She looks around and over David’s shoulder and frowns when she fails to see Max.

“And where is he?”

“Upstairs, getting dressed,” David replies, guiding Gwen to the kitchen and pulling a chair for her. There are three sets of plates and cutlery already set on the table. “I accidentally spilled some sauce on him.”

“Was it hot?” Gwen asks and David’s face goes oddly red at it. She quickly reacts. “David! No! What the fuck? I mean, did he get burned?”

“No, I didn’t,” Max’s voice comes from the small passage between the living room and kitchen. “Just fucking messy.”

Gwen turns around to finally greet Max but her words get stuck in her mouth when she sees him. The black eye is not swollen anymore but it is still very dark, the little veins stark red against the white, and the bruises on his neck are easy to see over the neck of his shirt.

“Max?” Her voice is soft. She looks at Max and David and sighs deeply. “Guess it is time for the bad news already?”

David nods ruefully.

“I guess so,” Max agrees, averting his eyes for a moment.

A heavy silence falls over the three of them as Max enters the kitchen and takes a place by David’s side. David immediately places a hand on the small of his back, they lean subtly against one another.

“What happened?” She asks more directly.

“My step-father attacked me yesterday,” Max doesn’t beat around the bush. David has heard the story before but he gasps softly when Max announces it. Gwen’s face pales.

“The one who took you from Camp Campbell?”

Max nods. “His name is Ron, he has always been an asshole but he became impossible to deal with after my mother died.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear it,” Gwen says.

“I don’t care how he treats me,” Max says full of spite. “But I can’t let him hurt Hannah, and yesterday he tried to force me to tell him where she is. When I refused, he... well…” Max points at his own beaten face instead of finishing his line.

“This is terrible.” It doesn’t matter how many awful stories Gwen listens at work, she is still sensitive to them, her heart still aches for all the victims she meets. “Did you call the police?”

“Ivan did,” Max informs and when she looks puzzled he adds. “Ron attacked me when I was leaving work, Ivan is the bartender. Actually, he kinda saved my ass yesterday.” Max falls silent for a while. “I could’ve died if he hadn’t shown up.”

David leans closer and presses a kiss to Max’s curls. Max flattens himself against David’s side, the support clearly necessary and appreciated.

“So you have a registered occurrence against him?” Gwen asks.

“Some, in fact.”

“Ron had been in jail for the last two years,” David inputs. “He had beaten Max in many other occasions.”

Max just nods, confirming David’s information.

“And when was he released?”

Both David and Max shrug.

“Probably yesterday, or sometime this week,” Max says. “He isn’t the type that wastes time when he wants something. I guess as soon as he found out where to find me he came after me.”

“And how did he find out where to find you?”

“I still lived in my old neighborhood when I started working at the Fruit Bowl,” Max tells them. “It is entirely possible that some of his nasty friends had seen me coming or going to work and figured out where to find me. It hasn’t been so long since I moved in with Christine.”

Gwen sighs deeply. The old guilt she had always felt about Max’s situation returning tenfold. If only she had been stronger that day, Max wouldn’t have gone through any of this…

As if reading her mind Max steps away from David so he can look at both of them at the same time.

“I don’t blame any of you for what’s happened, okay? I see how you guys look at me, I know you think you could have made things different but, honestly, I don’t care about it,” he suddenly looks very tired. “I am done mourning my own life, I’ve been through some tough shit but I’ve overcome it and now that things are finally getting good I don’t want you to feel guilty. If things had been different, I wouldn’t be here now, and I don’t want to even consider being somewhere else.”

Much to everyone’s surprise, Gwen starts to laugh.

“Gwen?” David calls her softly.

“I am sorry, it is just… Damn!” She smiles, forcing down her laughter. “It is just that you… you are an adult now. Look how grown and strong you are.”

Max blushes deeply as Gwen slowly stops laughing and faces him with a more serious expression.

“To be honest, I didn’t know what to expect when I came here tonight. You were acting like the shitty brat you used to be when I met you at the bar the other day, I am surprised that you are actually this mature.”

“Did you two meet at the bar?” David asks, curious.

“Oh, when I wasn’t talking to you because you told her about me,” Max tells him with a shrug. “She talked some sense into me.”

“And I’m glad it worked out so well,” she says. “But right now I’d be really glad if I could eat something too.”

“Fuck! Yes,” Max quickly moves to the sink in order to retrieve the oven mittens there. David steps aside as Max opens the oven door and takes the tray of baked pork and potatoes from it. The smell gets stronger and Gwen’s mouth waters.

David brings the pan of sauce and a bowl of salad to the table as Max sets the tray down. Everything looks delicious and Gwen whistles, clearly impressed.

“I’d never guess you could cook, Max.”

“I’m full of surprises,” he replies with a shit-eating grin.

They fill their plates and start to eat in comfortable silence.

“This is amazing, Max!” Gwen says after a while. “Where did you learn to cook?”

Max shrugs. “A little everywhere, I guess. TV shows, internet…”

“He makes the best pancakes in the world,” David says with a proud smile.

“I hope I can try them someday,” Gwen says, loading more food onto her fork and savoring it slowly.

“Gwen,” Max calls her slowly. He sets his knife and fork down and waits for her to do the same. “I know you probably want a calm dinner with your friend and I’m sorry to insist on this topic, but, I asked David to invite you to dinner because I need your help.”

Gwen chews slowly and thoughtfully cleans her mouth after she finishes eating. She places her knife and fork down before addressing Max again.

“I am listening,” she says, her tone and posture professional.

“Yesterday Ron attacked me because he wants to know where Hannah is. I didn’t tell him but I’m afraid he can get a lawyer or something and find out where she is. I want to protect her, but I don’t know what I can do.”

Gwen considers the situation for a while.

“You said you registered an occurrence against him yesterday, right?”

Max agrees with a firm head shake.

“That is good, it will give you credibility and buy you some time. Was he taken by the police?”

“Yes, to the station but I don’t know if he was sent back to jail or if he was released.”

“Even if he was released, he has a new occurrence but a few days after he was released. Any judge will see this is an alarming sign. Right now, what is the situation on Hannah’s custody?”

Max sighs and rubs his eyes tiredly. David places his hand on his shoulder in a protective gesture.

“It is complicated,” he says at last. “After our mother died Ron had her full custody for a few years but when he was arrested everything became very confusing. I requested her custody but I couldn’t get it, according to the judge my _lifestyle isn’t compatible with raising a kid_.” He makes an ugly face at that and both David and Gwen groan sympathetically.

“Does he still have the full custody?”

“No. The judge didn’t accept my request to have the custody but he agreed that Ron couldn’t have it either. With the help of the social worker responsible for her, I managed to find a compromise. Hannah is enrolled full-time in a boarding school, the nuns there have her temporary custody. Actually, both Ron and I can visit her there, but we can’t take her home even for weekends. Of course, Ron doesn’t know this because he was in jail when I made the agreement with the school and the social worker, but as soon as he finds out he’ll go there to pester her.”

“And how could he find out about her location if you didn’t tell him?” David asks.

“Well, _I_ didn’t tell him but there are other people who can,” Max shrugs. “He can try the social workers or if he has a brain he can get a lawyer to check it for him.”

“Max is right, David,” Gwen says, seriously. “Ron is still the father so unless we get a restraint order or something similar he can easily find out where Hannah is.”

“So, this is what we were hoping you could help us with,” Max says, nervously biting his lower lip.

“What was he arrested for?” Gwen asks.

“Spanking me,” Max says with simplicity. “I mean, that was the main reason but he had a handful of minor offenses too. Drinking and driving, selling drugs, I think he had an unregistered gun at some point.”

“Has he beaten or mistreated Hannah in the past?”

Max’ face turns white at the mere prospect.

“No. If he had I would be the one in jail.”

“Max…” David calls him softly and Max immediately relaxes.

“Well, he still has a very bad background,” Gwen says. “If we can prove that he might be as violent to Hannah as he is to you it will be easy to get the restraint order.”

“This shouldn’t be difficult, right?” David asks. “I mean, he did attack you for no reason as soon as he got out of jail.”

“I don’t know,” Max replies with no confidence. “Technically we’re not related and he has never attacked someone from his family. He might argue that he did it to protect Hannah or some bullshit like this.”

“But this is absurd!”

“Unfortunately he is right,” Gwen says somberly. “If Ron gets a good lawyer they can build the case on this premise.”

Max groans out loud.

“It is fucking useless!” He slams his fists on the table, rattling the glasses and plates.

“There is an alternative,” Gwen says once Max’s harsh breathing returns to normal. “You can get Hannah’s full custody.”

Max looks defeated.

“I’ve tried, Gwen,” he says in a low voice.

“I know you did, but did you have a good lawyer? A good case?”

“Fuck no,” he snorts. “I can’t pay for a good lawyer, I used a standard form given to me by the social worker.”

Gwen smiles sympathetically.

“I thought so,” she says, but there isn’t any judgment in her voice. “You said the judge denied your request because of your work?”

“ _Lifestyle_ ,” Max corrects her. “But, yeah, basically my work.”

“So, all you need to do is get another job, right?”

Max snorts derisively. “It is easier said than done.”

“I’m sorry,” Gwen says quietly. “I hadn’t thought this through. You getting her custody would be the best solution, maybe if you try again the case will go to a different judge and have a different outcome?”

Max looks away, clearly defeated.

“What if I adopt her?”

David’s voice cuts through the silence and Max turns around to look at him so fast his neck makes a loud pop.

“It is a possibility,” Gwen says, pensively.

“Wha… what? No. No?” Max sounds as shocked and confused as he looks. “David, what the fuck?”

David looks back at him, head tilted slightly.

“I can adopt her, no?” He turns to Gwen. “Her temporary custody is with the school but with Ron in jail and Max unable to have the custody she might be up for adoption, no?”

“David!” Max calls, heart thundering in his chest. “It is not a matter of legal possibility, it is a matter of… of... “ he gapes and gestures wildly but no coherent words leave his lips.

David picks Max’s hands and kisses his bruised knuckles gently.

“Sorry, this came out of nowhere. I didn’t mean to shock you or anything. It just seemed like a possibility.”

“Do you have any idea what you are proposing?”

David sits up a bit straighter on his chair and turns around to fully face Max.

“Max, I said it before and I’ll say it as many times as necessary: I want to make you happy. I know how much you love Hannah, and how much you worry about her especially now that Ron is back. She seems like a very special girl and I know you are more than capable of raising her, if I can do anything to help you with it I will do it in a heartbeat.”

“Would you… would you really do this for me?” Max’s eyes start to shine with unshed tears. David gently wipes the corners of Max’s eyes.

“For the two of you, absolutely.”

Max throws himself against David, grabbing him in a tight embrace. David holds him back just as tightly as both of them shake slightly with the force of Max’s hiccups. David runs his hands in soothing circles down Max’s back and for a long while they remain like this. Gwen watches, astounded by the unforeseeable turn of the events.

A moment later Max slowly sits up and wipes his face with his crumpled napkin. He turns to face Gwen, a new determination shining in his eyes.

“Is it possible?” Max asks, voice still fragile but unwavering. “Is it possible for David to adopt her?”

“It is,” Gwen replies. “I don’t know enough about it, but I helped one of the lawyers back at work and he owes me a big favor. I can talk to him and get a more concrete idea of what to do."

“Really? Can you do this for me?”

“Of course,” she says, gently. “You asked us not to regret what happened ten years ago, so I won’t but I don’t want to regret not doing anything anymore. Allow me to help you as much as I can from now on.”

Little tears spring back on Max’s eyes but he wipes them off quickly. He smiles at Gwen.

“Thank you, Gwen. Thank you a lot.”

Gwen stands up and crosses the small distance between them. Max quickly follows suit and they hug for a long moment. Max might have grown a lot but he is still a couple inches shorter than Gwen and as she happily embraces him the idea of this Max gets easier to reconcile with the old memories of him. People grow but they also stay the same, and there is nothing wrong with that, she thinks as Max pulls away to sit back by David’s side.

The rest of the meal passes by quickly. They efficiently avoid any dark themes in their conversation, keeping to pleasant topics of conversation for the rest of the night. Gwen shows Max pictures of her pet snake, and Max tells her about Christine and her theater shenanigans.

At around eleven Gwen can barely keep her eyes open, the exhaustion of a long day finally catching up to her. Both Max and David accompany her to the front gate and they stay there, holding hands, as her car slowly disappears down the street.

“Let the dishes there,” David says once they are back inside. “They can wait until tomorrow.”

Max doesn’t fight him on this one. He is tired and still a little in pain so the idea of going straight to bed is very appealing at that moment. They climb the stairs hand in hand, in slow steps that look almost like a shy dance.

David changes into his pajamas as Max uses the bathroom, and then they switch places. David brushes his teeth, being extra thorough considering Max’s second-hand obsession with dental hygiene. When he finishes Max is already on the bed waiting for him. The younger man smiles a little when he sees David just looking at him from the bathroom door.

“What?” He asks, a little frown on his face that David thinks is just adorable.

Max looks so at home already, it fills David’s heart with a happiness he had almost forgotten. The happiness of a family, of a real partner and lover. At that moment David clearly sees himself with Max for years and years to come.

With a big smile on his face, David crosses the room and lays down next to Max. Carefully, he leans in and steals Max’s lips into a soft kiss. Max makes an appreciative noise as he relaxes further into David’s gentle embrace. David’s hand slides down Max’s side slowly until he reaches the bottom of his shirt and allows his hand to rest on the exposed patch of dark skin there. He feels as goosebumps rise on Max’s otherwise smooth skin.

Max is pliant and warm under David’s soft caresses but his presence is overwhelming at the same time. Every one of David’s senses is taken by Max - his scent, his taste, his warmth. The little moans he can’t quite control.

“Max?” He calls softly between kisses.

“Yes?”

“May I make love to you tonight?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up for a pure smut chapter next time ;D


	23. Body and Worship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in less than a week?! What is this?  
> I don' t know, but the good news don't stop: look at this [beautiful Max](https://masonisawesomelol.deviantart.com/art/Max-735804513) [MasonisAwesomelol](https://masonisawesomelol.deviantart.com/) made for us. It is based on one of my favorite scenes and it makes me disgustingly happy <3

“May I make love to you tonight?”

Max’s next breath catches in his throat and it comes out broken and sudden when he finally releases it. David has no right to ask it. Not with this soft voice and this smitten look in his eyes. Not when Max’s heart is so full it feels about to overflow.

“Yes.”

David smiles at him, a slow smile that reaches up to his eyes and highlights the small creases around them. David looks his best smiling, Max has to admit it.

For a long moment, David does nothing. He smiles and allows his eyes to move over Max’s face as if it was the first time. His gaze is not lustful or hungry, it is warm and Max can almost feel it as a soft caress across the bridge of his nose, careful under his sore eye, gentle on his high cheekbones. The intensity of that stare dries Max’s mouth and when his tongue pokes out to quickly lick his lips David imitates the gesture unconsciously.

“How are you feeling?” David asks in a soft voice.

Max gives the question some thought. How  _ is  _ he feeling? Tired and still a little in pain, but also uncharacteristically full of hope. Excited with the new perspective, afraid of everything that can go wrong.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” David says after a while.

“You won’t,” Max replies with absolute certainty and then it is David’s time to hold a broken breath.

David leans over once again and presses his lips against Max’s but he retreats before the younger man can turn it into a real kiss.

“Let me take care of you tonight,” David begs and demands in the same phrase.

Max doesn’t answer, not with words at least. His eyelids flutter closed as goosebumps rise in waves over his skin. With a sharp exhale he allows all his body to relax, sinking into the bed and effectively putting himself under David’s power. David understands his gesture for what it is.

The first thing David does is pull down the blanket Max had already pulled up. The night is not cold, the blanket isn’t really necessary and right now it is proving to be a hindrance. David just kicks it down so Max’s entire body is out on display. Christine might’ve brought him some clothes but David recognizes the shorts Max is wearing as one of his own. The image is surprisingly sweet.

David carefully moves to the end of the bed where he kneels between Max’s feet. He picks one of his foot and raises it until it is level with his face. Max’s feet are long but slim and David is not really surprised when he finds traces of black polish on his nails. He runs his fingers from heel to toes, feeling the high instep arch and the thicker skin on the heel curiously. Max’s reaction is no more than a twitch of his toes so David feels free to continue his exploration.

He holds Max’s ankle in a hand and uses the other to map his foot thoroughly. The calluses where the seam of his boots rubs against the skin, the sensitive spaces between his toes, the elegant curve of the bridge that David can’t help but kiss from bottom to top. His kisses continue up the ankle where he spends a few seconds lovingly kissing and nibbling on the little bone.

Max’s breath starts to get choppy when David finally releases his foot. He doesn’t expect the older man to pick the other one and repeat all the same steps. Max has had clients with odd feet fetishes but all the focus they had given to his feet only weirded him out and kinda bored him. The heartfelt attention David is laving on his feet is causing a little fire to erupt in his chest. His cheeks are already turning pink and he is finding it difficult to keep his eyes open.

David kisses his way up Max’s shin as his hand gently supports his leg up. Max doesn’t have much body hair but the little he does feels soft against David’s lips. The older man goes all the way to his knee and then he descends back again in the other side, effectively covering Max’s calf and shin in sweet little kisses. David pulls back and just runs his hands up and down Max’s calf for a moment. He digs his thumb on the seam of his muscles and follows the curve of his Achilles tendon until he reached his foot once more.

“Oh, there is a little scar here,” David says, mostly to himself, before leaning in to kiss the scar on Max’s calf. “And another one here,” he continues kissing the marks, scars, and blemishes on Max’s skin until he feels like every one of them has received the due attention.

David places Max’s leg back on the bed, a little wider than before, so he can scoot closer and pick the second leg. At this point, Max’s hands are held into tight fists on the bedspread and he is thankful that David had removed the blanket because otherwise, he would be melting from how hot he feels. Time seems to run slowly as David lays unhurried kisses and runs gentle fingers on Max’s leg.

When David finally lays Max’s leg back he slides his hands from his knees up until he reaches the hem of his sleeping shorts.

“May I take these off?” He asks, already tugging at them lazily.

“Please,” is all Max can groan in response. His brain is shutting down already and any complex answer seems out of reach.

David pulls the shorts down and off quickly. Max’s underwear has an undeniable tent on it and a wet spot is already forming there. David eyes it with a lot of interest and no little amount of pride, but he ultimately ignores it in favor of returning his attention to Max’s thighs.

David places his hands on Max’s knees and gently pushes them apart, just enough to make the access easier. Max’s thighs are… delicious. David wishes he had better words but he just doesn’t. Lean but strong, peppered with the softest little hairs, the skin smooth and dark and perfect. David kisses behind his knees playfully and Max actually giggles a little in response and as much as David likes to make him laugh he has other goals at the moment.

After kissing the sensitive back of Max’s knees David bites on the tendon there before moving upwards, kissing the soft skin of his thighs. There are no scars on Max’s thighs so David feels inclined to bite and suck some marks, just so he could kiss and soothe them afterward. All the while Max just tries to avoid crushing David between quivering thighs everytime the older man’s teeth send a jolt of pleasure down his core.

“David,” Max mewls.

“Yes, Max?” David stops kissing and biting him but his hands don’t leave his legs even for a second.

Max doesn’t know for sure what he wants. More? Less? Faster? Yes, definitely this.

“Faster,” he demands, looking down at David from under heavy lids and long eyelashes.

“No.” David replies, soft but indisputable.

Max whines in response, and just to show his frustration he crushes David a little between his thighs. Little does he know that David considered this more of a reward than a punishment.

“I’m taking care of you, remember?”

Max grunts in reply and David leans up to kiss the little pout off his lips. This time Max manages to turn the contact into a real kiss. He pours his heart and heat into it, hands finally leaving the crumpled sheets to hold onto David’s shoulders and neck. David kisses back just as fiercely. He might be focusing all his attention on Max but that doesn’t mean he is not suffering the effects of his acts. His pulse is just as fast as Max’s and it is just as difficult for him to think straight as it is to the younger man. His cock almost hurts inside his sleeping pants and it takes a lot of self-control to avoid just reaching inside his pants and finishing off to the sight of Max’s bitten thighs and tented briefs.

The kiss, heated as it is, is a nice reprieve. Both of them have red faces and uneven breaths when they finally separate but the fire burning inside has calmed down a little. It simmers now when it was boiling before.

David steals some more little kisses before he takes Max’s shirt off.

The consequences of the encounter with Ron are more clearly visible on Max’s chest and torso. There are small purple and green bruises on his chest and sides, and his shoulders are scrapped from being pressed against the wall. David’s heart clenches painfully when he sees it. With utmost care, he leans in and starts to nuzzle Max’s neck. The necklace of bruises is still plainly visible even if Max’ voice is fully restored by now.

David kisses the sensitive space behind Max’s ear and trails his lips down his jawline until he reaches the other ear. He feels Max swallowing hard, his Adam’s Apple bobbing under David’s careful lips.

“You are so beautiful,” David says against the purple and green stained skin. Max just chokes on an unintelligible sound in reply. “The most beautiful person in my life.”

David kisses a line down Max’s throat and spends long minutes just kissing and licking at the deep hollow between his collarbones. Max’s breath is irregular and shaky and when David notices it he starts to hum a soft tune between the kisses he is carefully placing on the bruises left by Ron.

Max doesn’t remember ever feeling like this. Sex has always come to him naturally, he has never been ashamed of his body or his needs or wishes. But this isn’t sex. This is new. He feels like each kiss, each caress reach deep within him, way past his skin and bones. David holds him with such care and reverence, he feels like he is made of clouds or glass or some other fragile but beautiful material.

Max is used to feeling like lead and poison and trash, he doesn’t know how to be a cloud or glass but David’s touch seems to have magic properties because Max feels himself changing with each passing moment. Every caress fills him with more of a warm, airy feel. Every kiss turns the acid on his blood in honey and the sandpaper of his skin in soft velvet.

He becomes more and more of the pretty and delicate thing David treats him as. He becomes fuller and fuller of the sweet and balmy feeling David seems to be pouring directly on his chest. At some point every sharp and venomous and rough part of him is gone and what is left is a new being, one that is fragile not because it is weak but because it is safe; one that is beautiful not because it needs but because all the beauty of the world is in the eye of his beholder.

At that moment a wall breaks inside him and his breath breaks completely with his tears.

“Max!” David pulls away, worry written all over his face. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, you loser,” Max replies, tears running down his face. “I… I just…” he hiccups and David cradles him in his arms with utmost care. “I just feel so good. So, so good.”

David watches him for a moment. He is shaking a little with his tears and his eyes are shining, beautiful but wet. It is his smile that finally appeases David’s heart. Max smiles now way more than he did as a kid but it is still a somewhat rare occurrence. So much so that David has come to cherish it dearly when he is gifted with a smile.

At this moment, despite the tears, Max is smiling. A real, glorious smile, all white teeth, and kiss-swollen lips.

“I want you, David,” Max pleads, asks, demands.

“You have me, Max.”

“I need you,” Max insists. “Inside me, now. Please.”

David would rather die than say no to this.

They kiss as if their lives were in the line, and they might as well be because none of them have ever felt so alive before. David operates some form of miracle to get rid of the rest of their clothes and Max is very grateful because he doesn’t trust himself with this task right now.

David takes his place back between Max’s legs and he gently drags Max closer to him. Thanks to his long arms David has no problems reaching for the lube and condoms on the drawer on the bedside table.

Max locks his ankles behind David’s back and uses it as leverage to lift his hips a little. The angle makes it easy for David to reach down and access his entrance.

Once his fingers are properly lubed, David wastes no time. He lathers some lube around Max’s hole and gently inserts the first finger in. It has been a long time since David had done this to another person but he still knows this routine well. Max’s body allows him in with little resistance and David immediately starts to slowly thrust his finger in and out of the younger man.

“David…” Max can’t help but say his name in a breathy, needy voice. David replies by kissing every piece of Max he can reach, whispering soft compliments and endearments between kisses.

David’s finger moves carefully, in and out and crooking a little to help make way to the other fingers. He uses the tip to tease and pull at the rim, tentatively pressing a second finger in as he does so. The second finger slides in without much fuss, Max’s groans when it slides all the way in beside the first but there isn’t a single trace of pain in his voice.

The fingers move around, prodding and probing until they find Max’s prostate. The reaction is immediate: Max’s entire body shakes, an explosive moan leaves his lips and seems to inject a ton of adrenaline in David’s blood. The older man repeats the movement, earning him another full-body shudder and moan. He opens and closes his fingers, loosening Max around his long and slender digits.

“Can you take another one?” He asks, voice wavering.

“No need,” Max says. “Won’t last if you continue doing this. Please, I want you.”

David kisses him fiercely as he thrusts his finger in and out a little more, just to be safe. Max moans and whines, electric currents of pleasure zipping through his body with each of David’s movements.

When David finally lets him go Max feels boneless and full of fire. He watches attentively as David rolls a condom on and slicks his cock with way more lube than necessary. David wipes his hand on the bedsheet and holds onto Max’s hips before taking a deep breath and bringing their hips together.

David’s cock slips messily between Max’s asscheeks and the younger man moans as it catches and rubs on the sensitive rim. At last David uses one hand to hold his cock in position as the other guides Max down onto him. The slide is continuous and smooth and when Max’s ass comes to rest on the cradle of David’s legs both of them are breathless and giddy.

“Does it hurt?” “Move!” They say at the exact same time.

David’s hand returns to its place on Max’s hip and he starts to move in long pulls and pushes. Max’s body holds him in tight and flutters gently as he moves out; he is hot and wet and every bit as perfect as David could have ever hoped.

Max sits up as best as he can and throws his arms around David, bringing their faces together so he can pant and breath on the same muggy air as David. Any part of his body that isn’t touching David feels like a pitiful waste for him at that moment. David seems to catch on to it because he lets go of Max’s hips in order to fully embrace him. Their chests and bellies are pressed close together, Max’s cock pressed between them.

There is sweat running down David’s back and Max’s fingers slide over it, his nails leave long red marks as the fight to find purchase on the pale skin. David moans and grunts, effort, and pleasure mingling in his body and mind until he can’t tell them apart. Every touch is electric pleasure, every forceful thrust is a step closer to the surrender they both crave so much.

They move together. Out of sync and sloppy at first but more and more as a unit with each shared breath, each echoed moan. Max’s head is pressed against David’s neck, the smell of aftershave and sweat there is irresistible and the young man makes no apologies as he sinks his teeth into the taut tendon there. David wails, pain spiking down his spine before it morphs into more pleasure.

Max holds fast. Arms, legs, nails, and teeth holding on to David as they rock and slide together, up and down and up again until they reach the breaking point.

“I… I’m gon… I…” David tries to warn and thankfully Max fully understands him.

“Touch me!” Max orders and David obeys on instinct.

David’s hand is long enough to completely close around Max’s cock. The younger man’s breath hitches and falters when his lover starts to stroke him in the same wild rhythm their bodies are moving.

Jerking Max off is a distraction, but not a very effective one, and sooner rather than later David finds himself in the edge of the abyss. He forcefully closes his eyes, allows Max to enter him through every other sense: smell, taste, sound. He wants everything that is Max and he wants to give Max everything that is him.

“Coming,” Max whimpers, brief and broken before his whole body seizes and he cums in thick spurts over David’s hand and their sweaty bellies.

David can’t resist the pull of Max’s orgasm. He follows his lover suit, burying himself as deep as possible inside Max as he feels his cock twitching wildly.

Their hearts beat fast and out of compass, sweat continues to bead and slide down their skin. Despite the sticky mess between them, they hold each other as close as possible, their breathing oddly in sync. They come down from their high slowly, first David, then Max, until they are both sufficiently recovered to finally pull away and apart.

David lays Max down carefully and plants kisses all over his face, neck, and shoulders as he does so. When David tries to pull away Max doesn’t allow it, the younger man holds him down and kisses him, slow and deep. David all but melts into the kiss and when they run out of breath he breaks apart with clear reluctance.

“Are you okay?” David asks, some concert showing in his voice.

Max laughs, airy and beautiful.

“I am perfect.”

“You got me worried there,” David says, carefully. He brushes a wet curl way from Max’s beautifully flushed face.

“Sorry,” Max replies sheepishly. “I was overwhelmed.”

“Overwhelmed?”

“I guess it was the first time I felt so good,” he says, the blush on his face deepening.

David studies him for a moment. Kiss swollen lips, sweat-drenched hair, violent bruises and love bites all over his body. He is the most beautiful and precious thing he has ever seen, and it hurts him to know that Max ever feels anything less than that. A new, strong, determination blooms inside David’s chest as he leans down to kiss Max once again.

“I assure you it will not be the last.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My word document for this chapter is almost seven pages long #help  
> It is six in the morning and I kinda hate myself for wasting two hours on youtube tonight instead of focusing on writing this OTL


	24. Stolen Time and Red Lipstick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Behold the return of some sweet side characters!  
> Man, it took me SO LONG to write this chapter. I swear it felt like I had to physically beat it into submission! Sometimes this story doesn't want to work with me at all, but I like how it turned out in the end :)

Max wakes up slowly, on his own time. No alarm, no noises from the street or screaming neighbors, just a steady rise to consciousness. He yawns, wide and long, before opening his eyes slowly. A smile comes naturally to his face when he sees David still on the bed by his side.

There is a small bit of sunlight filtering in through the window, _it must be really early_ , he thinks with satisfaction. David looks incredibly soft, almost fragile, in this light. The pale peach of his skin is tinted pink from warmth and sleep, his hair is a wild mess, his lips half opened and smashed against the pillowcase. The lines around his eyes are relaxed to the point it is difficult to see them.

They are laying down face to face, David’s leg is thrown over Max’s and their feet are poking out of the blanket that was kicked around during the night. David groans a tiny bit and his hand comes up to scratch his cheek lazily. Max watches him fondly, the newfound feeling of belonging aching pleasantly in his chest.

A memory comes to him, unbidden when his eyes happen to fall on David’s slim wrist. In their day-to-day life, it is easy to ignore the scars littering his arm but now in the silence of the morning, with David still and bathed in amber sunlight, they are impossible to overlook. Max remembers the first time he’d been to David’s house after the incident involving too many drinks and the pole on the Fruit Bowl stage.

When was that? No more than three months before but it seems like a lifetime ago. Max had barely slept that night, a little guilty after David’s accident, a lot anxious about the meaningful scars, about the cellphone password and the tears in David’s eyes when he drunkenly spoke about losing Max ten year prior. Max cried silent tears that night but refused to touch the white lines on David’s wrist. They were too intimate and too mysterious back then. They are no less intimate now, but Max feels entitled to touch them.

Carefully he slides his fingertip across the longest one, his touch feather light and faltering. It feels immensely thick under his finger despite being just a little raised line. To think that he had been so close to losing David even before he got him. A shiver runs down his spine. He can barely imagine life without David anymore.

Meeting David again was the fresh start he never knew he needed in his life.

His fingertip slides up David’s forearm and palm until he places his entire hand over David’s. His hand is long but it is still smaller than David’s, his fingertips resting half an inch below the older man’s. He feels the scars against his own wrist and wonders if this isn’t a new start for David as well.

David had been robbed of ten years of his life, he lost time and energy and opportunities that Max alone can’t give back. That doesn’t mean he isn’t willing to try his hardest to do so. He can’t fix the past but he can make a better future for David, and for himself. And for Hannah.

He remembers how much David loved all the kids back at Camp Campbell. He was always smiling, always attentive to their needs and whims, always willing to do whatever it took to make them happy. He faked an entire moon landing for Space Kid and organized an entire Christmas party in the middle of fucking July just because Nikki said it was her favorite holiday.

Max can just imagine how excited he was about having a son, and he can barely start to imagine how he felt after the miscarriage. Having Max taken from him at Camp Campbell, losing his unborn child and fiancé. David said Max had lost many things in his life but he too had been stripped bare on more than one occasion.

Max’s fingers slide sideways until they fit in the spaces between David’s. He squeezes lightly and David squeezes back as he starts to stir awake.

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” Max says once David blinks his eyes open. The older man smiles at him sleepily.

“No problem,” he yawns and rubs his face against the pillow. “It is good to wake up with you here.”

Max blushes deeply.

“Yes, it is,” he agrees sheepishly.

“Did you sleep well?” David inquiries. “You woke up early.”

“I slept very well, yes,” Max shrugs and scoots closer to David. “I guess I slept so well I don’t need sleep anymore.”

David smiles. “That’s good.”

“Do you want to sleep some more?”

“No,” David stretches his long limbs, yawning like some sort of big cat. “I’m good too. Actually, I have some things to do this morning, I’d need to wake up soon anyway.”

“What are you doing today?” Max asks as he reaches for his phone on the bedside table.

“I have a work meeting downtown,” David tells him. “It is a new project but I’m excited about it. Also, I want to buy Hannah’s birthday gift.”

“What?” Max looks up from his phone. “You’re buying Hannah a birthday gift? Did she ask one?”

“Oh, no, she didn’t,” David rises his hands in a placating gesture. “She did ask me if I could visit her with you on her birthday.”

Max looks the date on the top of his phone screen. Hannah’s birthday is only three days away.

“I… I don’t know if I’ll be able to visit her,” Max says quietly.

“You still have some days off, don’t you?” David asks. “Her birthday is next week, you can make it.”

“I guess, but,” Max hesitates, “I don’t want her to see me like this.” He points to his eye still tinted purple and cracked lip.

David wraps his arms around him and Max allows the older man to pull him into a loose but comfortable hug.

“I understand you, but I think she would be incredibly happy to have you there, even if you have some bruises. Also, it is still three days away, you’ll have time to heal by then.”

“Even if I do, it is too expensive to go there by taxi or Uber and I’d need to take two buses and walk a good deal to go by public transport.”

“Ah, well, I’d take you there by car.”

“Really?” Max looks up from his position in David’s arms.

“Of course. I want you two to spend as much time together as possible.”

Max hides a little smile on the curve of David’s neck.

“You don’t even have a car, you loser.”

“That can be easily fixed,” David says with a one-armed shrug. “In fact, one of the things I need to do today is asking the Fergusons for the car.”

“The fuck are the Fergusons again?” Max asks looking up at David.

“They run the grocery store down the street,” David says and suddenly he stops. “Oh, you should come with me.”

“Why? I mean, why would me being there help?”

“I wouldn’t say help, but Mrs. Ferguson saw you here when we were taking care of the garden and she wants to meet you.”

“Is that so?” Max presses on, eyebrow risen in suspicion.

“Yes, well, actually I told her that you are very important to me and that I was happy to have made peace with you after our fight,” David says, a light blush coming to his cheeks. “The Fergusons are very dear to me and she said she’d like to meet you one day.”

Max sits up and looks down at David.

“You told people about me!”

David blinks slowly, unable to read the emotion in Max’s voice. It isn’t an accusation, it doesn’t sound like betrayal or anger but there _is_ something there. He looks up at Max and tilts his head slightly.

“Yes?”

Max, surprisingly, giggles a little and leans down to plant a soft kiss on David’s lips.

“You told people about me,” Max repeats, something akin to awe in his voice.

“I’m sorry,” David says, still unsure about what to do.

“No, I’m… I am happy?” Max looks around, a little lost himself. “The few people I dated were not so keen on sharing it with their friends and all.”

“What? Why?” David frowns, sitting up and taking Max’s hands in his own.

“I suppose they were ashamed of dating a stripper or something,” Max says, looking down at their joined hands.

David leans forward and nudges Max’s face up. Max still avoids his eyes but David waits until he finally looks up.

“I am sorry you had to go through this,” David says softly. “I don’t understand why anyone would be ashamed of dating a handsome, intelligent and strong man just because of his profession but I’m kinda happy they did because it meant you came to me in the end.”

Max just looks at him for a long moment. David is about to say something but Max tackles him down onto the bed and softly punches his chest as a blush starts to burn on his face.

“Shut up, David! You can’t say things like this,” his voice is small.

David laughs and hugs him tight.

“You’re embarrassing,” Max murmurs.

“I can’t help it,” David says, burying his face in Max’s messy curls. “I’m just glad to have you with me.”

Max leans up and kisses him softly.

“Me too.”

David tries to go for another kiss but Max sits back up before their lips touch. David pouts slightly.

“So, let’s go there see this Mrs. Ferguson already.”

***

Max is very conscious of his hand in David’s as they enter the Fergusons’ grocery store. It is small but very well organized, with only one check out counter with an old cash register and a pile of dark brown paper bags on it. There is some background music playing but Max is too nervous to pay attention to it.

“Oh, we should restock since we’re here,” David says casually. “I used the last of the milk today and there isn’t any fruit left. Do you like oranges?”

“Hm? Yes, yes I do,” Max replies with a little delay.

“Is anything wrong?”

“I’m sorry, I’m kinda nervous?”

“Why?”

Max grinds his teeth and David squeezes his hand in return.

“I don’t want to fuck it up.”

“Nonsense,” David smiles and kisses his forehead.

Max grumbles some sort of response but David can’t hear it because at this exact moment an old lady comes from the back of the store to greet them.

“I should know it was you, David,” she says amicably. “No one comes here this early in the morning.”

“Good morning, Mrs. Ferguson,” David says with a smile. “I’m sorry if we came on a bad time.”

She shakes her head and waves her hand dismissively.

“As if,” she says. “I was just helping Gregory with some boxes in the storage room when I heard voices here.”

“Does he still need help?” David asks, solicitous as always.

“It is not necessary, the work’s almost done,” she says with a smile. “And there is something more important you need to do.”

David looks surprised, raking his memory trying to remember what could it possibly be. Mrs. Ferguson laughs gently at his awkward expression.

“You need to introduce me to this handsome young man,” she says with a little grin and both David and Max blush.

“Yes,” he agrees in a squeaky voice. “Mrs. Ferguson, this is Max. My boyfriend,” he says, proudly.

“Please, call me Margareth,” Mrs. Ferguson says as she gives Max a hug. “I always tell David to call us by our first names, but he insists on this Mr. and Mrs. Ferguson thing.”

“I want to be polite,” David murmurs mostly to himself.

Max and Margareth share a little eye roll. David pouts.

“I’ll see if Mr. Ferguson needs any help,” he says and turns on his heels in order to disappear down the narrow aisle. Mrs. Ferguson laughs fondly at his childish behavior.

“Nice to meet you, Margareth,” Max says, glad that Mrs. Ferguson - Margareth - is so approachable.

“Nice to meet you too, Max,” she smiles at him. “David sounded very happy when he was talking about you the other day,” she says in a conspiratorial voice.

“Is it so,” Max asks with a smirk. “What did he say?”

“He said you two had a little squabble, but that you figured it out and made peace with each other,” she replies, her tone more serious now. “It is normal to bicker and argue with people we care, just make sure to make peace with them every time.”

Max is taken by surprise by the advice. It is sound advice, of course, but he didn’t expect her to care enough about their relationship to go on dropping some knowledge upon them. She reaches forward and lays a gentle hand on Max’s shoulder.

“You boys are still young, but when you get old you will be happy to have someone with you.”

“I am happy to have him now,” Max says in a low voice. Margareth smiles at him and softly pats his cheek before taking a step back.

“You are a good boy, Max,” she says. “Take care of David, okay?”

“I will,” he says firmly.

Mrs. Ferguson smiles at him and he replies with a small smile of his own.

“Well, Max, you are quite battered up, aren’t you? What happened, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Max swallows dryly. He remembers David’s words from earlier that day. In fact, he remembers many occasions where David had shown that he doesn’t think any less of Max because of his career, however, he knows that David is an exception and not the rule. Most people change dramatically their behavior once they find out Max is a sex worker. Margareth seems nice and Max doesn’t want to drive her away - especially when they need her car to see Hannah on her birthday.

“Well, I work at a bar,” Max eventually says, opting for a neutral half-true. “There was a fight and I got involved trying to separate the two guys.”

“Oh, poor thing,” she shakes her head sympathetically. “Before Gregory and I opened this store I used to work as a waitress on a pub, I know how these things go. Have you applied ice to this black eye?”

“Yes.”

“If you put ice for a few minutes every day it will disappear in a few days,” she continues. “However, if you need a quick fix you should use some red lipstick on it.”

“Come again?” Max frowns and looks around to check if it was some hidden camera thing. Margareth laughs at him.

“Red helps hide the purple color of the bruise,” she explains patiently. “Ideally you need a color concealer but they can be expensive, so red lipstick does the trick. Just dab some on the area and then cover it with foundation in the same color of your skin.”

Max vaguely remembers Christine saying something about color correcting makeup and the little he remembers actually line up with what Mrs. Ferguson is saying now.

“Of course, I actually used this trick to cover up hickeys and not bruises but I think it will work just as fine,” she says with a little wink.

“I will try it and tell you the results,” Max says, a little dumbfounded. He quickly decides he actually likes Mrs. Ferguson quite a lot.

“I hope it helps,” she says. “But the best would be if you avoided these things. I know you wanted to help and protect your clients but you need to take care of yourself too. If something like this happens you should ask for help before putting yourself on the line.”

She doesn’t know the true story behind Max’s bruises but he feels that her advice still applies perfectly. He didn’t have the opportunity to ask for help when Ron attacked, but now thanks to David he isn’t alone in this fight anymore. He feels some warmth growing in his cheeks.

“I will, don’t worry Mrs. Fer, oh, I mean, Margareth.”

She smiles at him, satisfied with his answer.

“Well, I must go to the counter, soon there will be more clients and I need to organize some things there. I suppose we’ll be seeing more of you here from now on?”

“I suppose, yes,” Max says, tucking an errant curl behind his ear and smiling a little at her.

“Good,” she replies. “See you later, Max. Take care.”

“Thanks, Margareth, you too.”

She leaves and Max stays there, still a little dazzled. He is about to go into the store to look for David when he spots his boyfriends coming back with an armful of oranges and a carton of milk in his hand.

“Where is Mrs. Ferguson?”

“She has just left,” Max says. “She is on the checkout counter.”

“Oh, perfect,” David says, happily. “We need to check these out anyway.”

Max takes the milk from David so they can hold hands again. David looks at their joined hands for a fraction of a second but he simply smiles and tugs Max down the aisle towards the front of the store.

“Did you get the car?” Max asks before they arrive at the counter.

“Yes. Mr. Ferguson usually lends it to me when I need to take my equipment somewhere. At first, I wanted to pay them to use the car but they never accept money for it, so I try to be helpful here to repay them for their kindness.”

“They seem to like you a lot,” Max comments.

“I suppose they do,” David replies happily. “I do like them too. Their son moved to Atlanta more or less at the same time I moved into my house, so I am kind of a surrogate child now.”

Max thinks Margareth acts a lot more like a nice but a little crazy aunt than a mother but he isn’t about to discuss it right now. He nods and hums in reply and David is satisfied with it.

“I talked to Mr. Ferguson now and I’ll get the car on Wednesday,” David tells Mrs. Ferguson as she packs their oranges and milk. “Do you want me to run any errands for you on this day?”

“Oh, no, we have some deliveries to make on Thursday but you can use the car at will on Wednesday. Are you going to use it for work?”

“Actually, this time it is a personal reason,” David says. “An important one,” he adds and looks at Max with a smile.

“Oh, are you boys going on a date?”

“More or less,” David says.

“It is my sister’s birthday,” Max tells her while David scavengers his pocket after some change. “She studies and lives at Saint Martha School for Girls, on the other side of town so we need the car to go visit her.”

“Ah, it is an important reason,” Margareth says smiling. “What’s her name and how old is she?”

“Her name’s Hannah, she’ll turn ten on Wednesday,” Max informs.

“It is a beautiful name,” Mrs. Ferguson says. “Wait a moment here,” she asks and leaves them on the counter for a minute or so. When she is back she has a box of chocolate on her hands.

“Bring her here too one day if you can,” Margareth says. “Living in a Catholic school can be quite taxing for a young girl, so give her this as a gift too.”

Max’s first instinct is to refuse the chocolate box. He’s taken an immediate liking to Margareth but he doesn’t want to feel indebted to her. However, when he sees that the chocolates are shaped like butterflies and ladybugs and other little critters he can’t say no. David senses his hesitation and picks the box for him and puts it in their bag between the carton of milk and the bag of oranges.

“Thank you, Margareth,” Max says after he swallows the little lump in his throat. What is it about David that seems to attract only the best people to him? Max stills need to figure this one out, but for the time being, he smiles at his new friend. “I’ll try to bring Hannah here someday too.”

David finally finds the exact change to pay for their purchase and they leave the store after bidding Mrs. Ferguson goodbye.

Margareth remains in her place behind the counter as they disappear down the street but she follows them with her eyes. Max seems like a nice person, even if he is not so good at hiding his secrets. She knows that those bruises are not the result of a simple bar fight, but she doesn't want to pry. Also, the boy clearly cares for David, and his sister and that alone is enough to give him the benefit of doubt.

“How did you like David’s boyfriend?” Mr. Ferguson asks as he leans on the counter by her side.

“He is a good boy,” she says. “But I think he isn’t in a very good place now.”

Gregory turns to take a better look at his wife.

“What do you mean?”

“I had the impression that he is always on alert. As if he is expecting an attack at any moment.”

Mr. Ferguson frowns.

“Poor boy.”

“Yes.”

“I wouldn’t worry, though,” Gregory says, leaning over the counter to kiss Margareth’s forehead. “He will be okay now.”

“Why do you say this?”

“Because David spent almost ten minutes telling me how much he needed the car to visit his little sister-in-law and how much he cares for this boy.” They both snort a little laughter at this.

“You know what?” Margareth says with a peaceful smile. “I think you are right, love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> misleading chapter name much?  
> also, if you like to hang around on tumblr, check the blog I created for this story there: https://caramel-and-pine.tumblr.com/


	25. Favors and Gifts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You thought you've seen the last of me? WRONG!
> 
> I've been working double shift these last weeks so I'm freaking tired all the time and I'm struggling with all creative activities I usually enjoy, like writing and painting. Today was cold af and I've been home alone since morning and for some reason that gave me the strength to write this chapter. Maybe I should be left alone more often XD
> 
> Enjoy!

“Are you sure you want to leave? You can stay a little longer if you want to,” David says for the umpteenth time. Max sighs and shakes his head, a smile on his face nonetheless.

“I know, David, but I still have a home, you know? Also, Christine gets antsy when she is lonely if I take too long to return she’ll have turned my bedroom into a workshop or something.”

David pouts a little harder as a last resource tactic but Max just grins at him and kisses his lips softly before moving to the door.

“I don’t know why you’re making such a drama, we’ll see each other on Wednesday, right?”

“Absolutely!” David perks up at the idea of their visit to Hannah. “I’ve made sure not to have any appointments or meetings on Wednesday. I have the whole day to be with you.”

Max smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling in joy.

“Thanks, it means a lot to me,” he can’t look David in the eye, some unknown coyness overtaking him by surprise. “Would you like to have lunch together on Wednesday before going to the school?”

“That would be lovely,” David watches as Max leans down to put on his boots and prepare to finally leave. “Do you have anything in mind?”

“Well, there is this Chinese place Christine and I like a lot. It is near our apartment so I can go on foot and meet you there. Is it good?”

“Perfect.”

David opens the door as Max finishes straightening his cuffed jeans over his boots. They hold hands as they cross the garden and kiss long and sweet in front of the gate. David feels like a teenager in a 2000’s movie, walking his love interest to the door and kissing them goodbye. It is a good feeling.

“I feel like asking one more time just to be sure,” David says as Max slips past the gate. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay a little longer?”

“Oh my god, David, get lost already!” Max’s words are a little harsh but he smiles fondly as he speaks and he leans over the gate to kiss David one more time.

“Sorry,” David smiles sheepishly. “Send me a message when you arrive, please. I know you are tough but I worry.”

“Don’t worry,” Max kicks a little stone on the sidewalk and it skids down the street. “I’m used to going around by bus, and it is broad daylight. It is going to be fine.”

“I know, but… “ there is something David clearly wants to say but he doesn't, he just shakes his head a little and smiles. “I care too much about you, that’s it.”

A blush burns Max’s face and he looks down at his scuffed boots.

“I care about you too,” he says, coyly. “A lot.”

They stay there, silently blushing and avoiding each other’s gaze for a few seconds before Max finally looks up again.

“Seriously, though, I must go now. See you on Wednesday.”

“Bye, Max,” David waves at him as he starts to go down the street. “Take care and don’t forget to message me.”

Max doesn’t turn to reply, he just waves over his shoulder, glad that David can’t see the stupid little smile on his face or the blush on his cheeks.

David had grown used to Max’s presence on those few days the younger man had spent in his home. It will be difficult to return to the silence and stillness of an empty house, but the notion that Max can return at any moment is oddly comforting. He doesn’t want to be overbearing, he likes how independent Max is and he doesn’t want to take it away from him. That doesn’t mean that he wants to spend days or weeks without seeing him again. They hadn’t discussed the details of their relationship - when and where to meet, how to keep in touch, how to address the situation with other people. David hopes these details will fall into place naturally. He does, however, make a mental note to emphasize how much he appreciates Max’s presence and that he should never shy away from a visit.

It is a pretty Monday morning and David has many things to do. He and Max had just gotten back from the Fergusons’ grocery store when Max told him he’d like to return to his apartment. He’d have liked to have Max around, take him downtown to buy Hannah’s gift, maybe have ice cream or some other kind of impromptu date but now that Max is gone he must stick to his schedule anyway. Once back inside he takes a quick shower, brushes his teeth thoroughly, not so secretly happy to see Max’s toothbrush in the cabinet next to his, and prepares to leave.

The woman he is meeting, Leonor Parker, was the editor of the first tourism guide that featured David’s work. He is quite fond of her because of this. She is very straightforward and shares his love for nature and the outdoors. They haven’t been in touch for years so he was surprised when she called him a few days prior. She didn’t give him many details on the phone but she said she was working on a new project and she’d love to have him on the team. It was enough to pick his curiosity.

When David’s Uber stops in front of the address Leonor had given him he has to fight to keep a neutral expression. The building is  _ huge _ . He tilts his head up to try and see the top but it seems to go on forever and ever, breaching the clouds and disappearing into the sky. There is a big garden in front of the building, with benches and a beautiful pond crowded with colorful koi fish. Leonor is waiting for him there.

“It’s so good to see you, David!” She greets him with a firm hug. “You haven’t changed at all in those last years.”

“I’m glad to see you too, Leonor,” he hugs her back. “You are lovely as ever.”

She smiles and shakes her head. Her hair is mostly silver-white but she makes it look good and professional like few people do. She is wearing a smart looking jacket and a pencil skirt, but her shoes are flats as she has always hated high heels.

“Did you bring what I asked?”

“Of course,” David replies promptly and shows her the printed portfolio under his arm.

“Perfect. Now, let’s get going, we must go all the way to the top floor,” she points to the far distant end of the building and turns on her heels to guide David in.

***

A knock on the door brings Gwen’s attention away from the book in front of her. It is only Monday, barely a few minutes before noon and she hopes this is not a problem - she’d hate to start the week with a screwed up lunchtime. She shoves a piece of paper between the pages and signals for the person at the door to enter.

“Oh, it is you,” she says with a smile when the newcomer shows up.

“Hi, Gwen. Louis said you wanted to see me?”

“Yup, come in,” Gwen stands up to greet the man. “How you’ve been?”

“Good,” he says as he sits down and crosses an ankle over his other knee. “Your advice was very valuable to me.”

“Glad to hear it,” she sits down too and takes a deep breath.

“I don’t like this sound…” he says, his tone playful despite the frown on his pale eyebrows.

“Sorry, it is just that I actually called you here to ask for a favor. A legal favor,” she adds, sheepishly.

“And here was I thinking that you’d finally accept my invitation to go out with me,” he says, leaning back and making himself more comfortable on the chair. Gwen snorts.

“Well, maybe you’ll be happy to know that I actually went to that place you suggested, Sam.”

Sam makes a little surprised noise but a smile turns his lips up.

“Did you like it?”

In all honesty, Gwen doesn’t remember enough about The Fruit Bowl to have a clear opinion on the place. The first time she was there she had to leave in just a few minutes, the second time she was on a mission to put some sense in Max’s stubborn poofy head. All in all, she can’t say she has had a standard Fruit Bowl experience but she isn’t about to say this.

“The hostess was quite cute,” she says, vaguely remembering the pink haired girl on the stage the first night. “And the drinks are good. It is a nice place, yes.”

“It is the best place in town!” Sam says, excitedly. “I’m a little mad that you’ve gone there without me, but as payment for my help with this legal matter, I want to go there with you next week.”

Gwen purses her lips. She isn’t sure how Max would feel about it - they have talked at David’s house and at The Fruit Bowl too but she had never seen him actually performing. She would be lying if she said she isn’t at least curious but she would never intrude in such delicate aspect of Max’s life without his knowing and consenting.

“I’m busy next week,” she says, diplomatically. “How about we schedule it for next month?” That would give her enough time to figure out Max and Hannah’s situation and talk to Max about watching his performance.

Sam smiles and offers his hand.

“I’m looking forward to this,” he says and Gwen shakes his hand while rolling her eyes a little. “All is set and done, no backsies. Now, what is your legal problem?”

“Well, the problem is not mine, you see,” Gwen starts and licks her lips, a little nervous. She hasn’t rehearsed what to say, how much to tell, how to convey the problem without accidentally outing Max and David. “It is a very good friend of mine who needs help. He has gone through some nasty shit, now I want to help him.”

Sam has a gentle smile on his face.

“You’re such a good person. Well, your friend is my friend too now,” he says, sitting on an upright position and looking way more serious than before. “What is his problem?”

“My friend has a little half-sister, she is nine years old and her father is an abusive piece of shit who almost choked my friend to death last week,” Gwen says bluntly making Sam frown. “In fact, his step-father has been in jail for a few years because of other situations where he beat my friend and other minor crimes he’s committed.”

“And now your friend is worried about the girl?”

“Yes,” Gwen remembers Max’s face when telling her about Hannah. She has seen many siblings sharing traumatic or abusive environments but few times she’s seen an older brother as devoted as Max. “He wants her custody but it has been denied, now he is afraid that since her biological father is out of jail he will get the custody and take her away from him.”

“Where is she now?” Sam inquiries.

“She is enrolled in a boarding school,” Gwen explains. “A social worker helped my friend figure out a temporary custody situation, but now that the father is free my friend wants to have a definitive solution for this problem.”

Sam remains silent for a moment, his fingers weaved together under his chin. Gwen watches as he seems to put the information in order in his head, looking for loops or exits.

“You said your friend had the custody denied?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Gwen licks her lips.

“Because of his work,” Gwen says, choosing her words carefully. “He works at a bar, and the judge who received the custody request considered his lifestyle conflicting with raising a child.”

“Bullshit,” Sam murmurs under his breath and Gwen nods in agreement.

“He had a lot of difficulties finding a job,” she continues. “Because of his step-father, my friend never finished high school or attended college so he doesn’t have qualifications for many jobs. He is very intelligent and capable, but people still value formal education a lot so he had to settle for working as a bartender.”

“You are very fond of him,” Sam observes with a little smirk.

“We have history,” Gwen says with an answering smirk.

“I’m very curious but I won’t ask,” Sam says and Gwen is silently thankful.

“So, I was with this friend over the weekend and we think we’ve found a solution but I want a professional opinion.”

“Go on.”

“Since it looks like it will be difficult for my friend to get the custody, his boyfriend offered to legally adopt the little girl.”

Sam remains perfectly still for a few seconds.

“Are they married?”

“No,” Gwen says. “Only dating. Is it good or bad?”

“I don’t know. Are they sure they want to do it?”

“What do you mean?”

“If this guy adopts the girl she will be legally his daughter. Forever,” he emphasizes. “If they are only dating, it is entirely too possible for them to break up and then it would create a new custody situation.”

Gwen bites her lip. It had never occurred to her that one day David and Max might break up. It makes little to no sense - they’ve been together for just a few weeks if one’s being very generous. David’s heart is soft as butter but Gwen likes to think of herself as a more rational person and it surprises her that she hadn’t thought about this possibility.

She looks down at the patterns on the wood of her desk. They curl and connect and part ways in fluid waves and she allows her eyes to flow through them as her thoughts flow on her mind. On a purely intellectual sense, she knows that the possibility of David and Max’s relationship to end is real. Very real actually. But her heart, hardened and slightly bitter as it is, refuses to acknowledge it. She has been by David’s side for ten years and never once his resolution failed or faltered, now that he’s finally gotten his reward she doesn’t think he will ever let go.

One of the dark lines on the wood catches her attention. It is long, thin but much darker than the rest of the pattern. It starts at the bottom of the desk on the left side and runs horizontally until it meets and merges with another, thinner line. They follow as one for a few centimeters but then they part ways again. The thinner line drifts far away creating a high arch that doesn’t touch any other line. It eventually arches down and finally touches the first line again, and from that point on they go together until the far right corner of the table.

“I don’t think this will be a problem,” Gwen says eventually. Sam studies her for a moment.

“If you say so, I guess I have to take your word on this one,” he says. “In their place, I would officialize their relationship, it is not necessary to get married but they should have a document proving their bond and intentions to one another.”

“A civil union?”

“Ideally, yes,” Sam affirms. “You said the step-father went to jail after he beat your friend up, right?”

“Yes. And after being released he went after him and almost killed him.”

“If we can prove that he is dangerous to the girl as well as he clearly is for your friend we can ask for protective measures for both of them and after this get her custody to the brother’s partner.”

“So, it can be done?”

“Yes,” Sam says with a tired smile. “It probably won’t be as easy as I made it seem, but it is entirely possible.”

Gwen releases a deep sigh.

“I was actually waiting for much worse news,” she admits. “Max will be so happy.”

“Max?” Sam echoes.

“Oh, fuck,” Gwen slaps her forehead in retaliation. “Yes, my friend, Max. I didn’t want to make it personal, but…” 

“Max sounds like a very good person and I respect your wish to protect his identity and all but do you think you could arrange for me to meet him? It would help me to write his case if I knew more about the entire story.”

“Write his case?”

“Yes,” Sam looks surprised at Gwen’s reaction. “You can’t go around telling me this heart-wrenching tale and expect me to go about my business. You asked for my help, I will help.”

“Sam…” Gwen’s eyes sting as tiny tears form on her lash line.

“You’ve always helped me a lot, it is only fair that I go the extra mile to help you too.”

Gwen’s chair scrapes loudly against the linoleum floor as she pushes it aside in order to go around the table and hug Sam.

“Thank you very much, Sam,” she says, heartfelt. “This means a lot to us.”

“You’re welcome,” he hugs her back. “It is the least I can do to you.”

Gwen stands up straight and quickly cleans the moisture on her face. Sam smiles at her.

“What do you say we go have lunch now?” Sam suggests, looking at the clock on the wall behind Gwen. “Your treat for roping me into this situation.”

Gwen snorts and rolls her eyes. That’s more like him.

“Let me just wash my face and we can go.”

*****

Christine is not home when Max arrives but, just like he had foreseen, she had already started to dump her stuff in his bedroom. He can barely see his bed as it is completely covered in rolls of fabric, scraps of paper and dozens of their clothes all balled up and wrinkly.

“Damn it,” he groans. He doesn’t even know where to begin to clear the mess so he just digs around until he finds Mr. Honeynuts and brings him to Christine’s own, much cleaner, room and flops down on her bed with the teddy bear in his arms.

“You’ll never guess what’s happened,” Max says aloud, looking at the bear’s mismatched eyes and worn ears. Of course, he doesn’t expect the bear to answer, he had never believed Mr. Honeynuts to be secretly alive or something like that, but the toy had been his sole company for so long that he can’t help but talk to it sometimes. “David is back, you know it, right? But it is not only this. He is different now and I really like this new David. He makes me happy, I don’t feel bad or alone when I’m with him. I think I...” Max’s words die on his lips.

Mr. Honeynuts stares back at him in silence, as it always does. Max had it cleaned a few times over the course of the years but if he presses his face tightly against it he can still smell mud and grass from the time it was taken by the Wood Scouts. He wonders if Gwen remembers the bear. He hugs the toy for a few more minutes. His feelings for David are still too new, too wild for him to talk about them aloud, even if the only one listening is Mr. Honeynuts.

Talking about David...

He gets his phone out and types a message for him, telling him that he had arrived safe and sound. He also sends a message to Christine, all capital letters, asking what the fuck she had done to his bedroom. Her reply comes in the form of a shrugging emote. He hisses at his phone.

Max is not tired but he doesn’t have a lot to do either. He could always start cleaning his room but Christine made all the mess, it is her responsibility to get rid of it. Also, he hates cleaning. He doesn’t hate cooking, however, and he sends a message asking Christine if she’d be home for lunch. When she sends an affirmative reply he rolls out of her bed and goes to the kitchen, which is surprisingly clean and neat.

“I bet that lazy bitch didn’t cook a single day while I was out,” he grunts and goes around the kitchen gathering ingredients for lunch.

Christine arrives a little after 11:30, her arms full of even more fabric and glittery things Max doesn’t fully recognize.

“Hey, Maxy!” She greets happily, dumping the new materials on Max’s already overcrowded bed. “I didn’t expect you here today.”

“This is still my house, you’re aware of this, right?” Max replies in a deadpan and Christine laughs in reply.

“Oh, I know,” she kisses his cheek affectionately. “It is just that David’s house is so cute and neat, I thought you’d never leave it.”

“You wish,” Max replies bitterly. “You’re not turning my room into a fucking workshop anytime soon.”

Christine shrugs. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”

“What’s with all this stuff, anyway?” Max asks, focusing back on the pan of sauce on the stove.

“Hannah’s birthday present, of course,” Christine tells him with simplicity.

“Really?” Max turns around to look at her. “What is it?”

Christine smiles.

“Well, remember last year when the girls went trick or treating and Hannah didn’t have a costume?”

How could Max forget? She sounded so defeated, he felt bad for days. He needs, turning his eyes back to the food.

“Well, I know she doesn’t like regular princesses and fairies; which is such a shame, but whatever,” Christine says, going back to Max’s room and rummaging around the mess after something hidden under layers upon layers of clothes and sewing material. “So, here it is! Queen Millipede!” Christine announces as she returns to the kitchen with her sketchbook in hands.

Queen Millipede has glittery black leggings and Hannah’s signature red Converse shoes, a pale blue dress with a voluminous skirt and poofy sleeves in dark blue and black gloves. But what really identifies her as a millipede are the two extra sets of arms and an adorable crown with glowing antennas. It looks exactly like the kind of character Hannah would love to bits.

“It is perfect,” Max says, a little bit of a raw, sweet emotion leaking in his voice.

“I know,” Christine says smugly. “I hope she hasn’t grown too much, though. It would be a shame if it didn’t fit her.”

“Will you finish it up until Wednesday?”

Christine seems taken aback by the question, but slowly she opens a knowing smile.

“I thought you wouldn’t be able to visit her.”

A light blush spreads across Max’s face.

“Well, I will now,” he says, defiantly. “David is going to take me there.”

Christine emits a high pitched sound, a celebratory squeal that pierces Max’s ears but puts a smile on his face.

“I wasn’t going to finish it this week but now I guess I must! Can I continue using your room as a workshop?” She bats her pink eyelashes and makes doe eyes at him. “Pleeeeease?”

“If you finish this up, yes, go ahead,” Max says. After a beat he adds, “but I’ll sleep in your bed until you finish it and clean my fucking bed.”

Christine smirks, like a big pink cat who’s gotten the canary.

“You sure you don’t want to sleep at David’s?”

“Shut it, bitch!” Max all but squeaks back at her, the soft blush on his face morphing into a deep scarlet color. Christine doubles over, laughing at his extravagant reaction. Max remains stubbornly quiet, eyes glued to the food despite the red tint still on his ears and neck.

“Go wash your hands,” he says, voice oddly high pitched. “I’ll help you with Hannah’s present after lunch.”

Christine smiles fondly at him and carefully closes her sketchbook as to avoid getting any food stains on it.

“I’m sure she’ll love it even more when she finds out you helped to make it,” she says tenderly.

The blush that had finally started to vanish returns, but this time it also makes Max’s eyes shine full of a wholesome and sweet feeling. “Shut it, bitch,” he says, mostly to himself and Christine giggles as she pretends not to hear the smile on his mean words.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now it becomes very clear how little I know about US's legislation! Bear with me for the sake of enjoying this fic, okay? I've never claimed to know what I was doing...  
> Did the revelation that Sam was Gwen's friend surprise anyone? Honestly, it surprised me OTL  
> This story has a mind of its own, I swear to god =____=
> 
> Also, I didn't know what insect should be Hannah's costume, but then I remembered that she calls Max 'Mili" and suddenly millipede made all the sense XD  
> I imagine her outfit to be very similar to Star's mewberty looks on episode 11 of the first season of Star vs the Forces of Evil :)


End file.
